No Ordinary Family
by HoneyBee HoneySuckle
Summary: Peter Parker certainly wouldn't call his life ordinary. It's kind of hard to be normal when your Dad is Iron Man. It's even harder when the Avengers move into your house. And it's pretty impossible to be anywhere near normal when you've started to stick to walls!
1. First Signs

**A/N: ... Because I don't have enough ongoing stories, amirite? **

When Peter Parker was seven, his house was robbed. The only thing the thief took was papers from his father's office, but apparently those papers were important, because the next thing he knew his parents dropped him off at his Aunt May and Uncle Ben's house and left the country.

He never saw them again. Peter was told that they died in a plane crash on the way to wherever they were going, but something in the back of his mind insisted that it wasn't true, that something else happened.

But he pushed that nagging thought to the back of his mind and did his best to move on, settling into a routine and a life with his aunt and uncle.

When Peter was nine, Aunt May suddenly collapsed to the floor, eyes wide and full of pain as she gasped for breath. Later on at the hospital, Uncle Ben was pulled aside by a man with an eyepatch and a black trench coat. Peter couldn't hear them, but when his uncle came back he looked to be on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Peter," he said softly, "Your Aunt May... she had a heart attack."

The young boy vaguely remembered a heart attack being a bad thing. "Is... Is she okay?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Uncle Ben looked pained. He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. She... she died, Peter."

At that, Peter burst into tears, burrowing into his uncle's arms.

When Peter was ten, Uncle Ben was killed in a home invasion. Peter called the paramedics as quickly as he could, but it was a futile effort. Uncle Ben died ten minutes before the ambulance arrived, and the paramedics found him sitting in a pool of his uncle's blood, his body shaking with silent sobs and his knuckles white from gripping the soaked flannel shirt with a bullet hole through it. After the funeral, he was put into the foster care system, his only possessions being a bag stuffed with clothes and a letter from his late uncle, a letter about how he must always remember that with great power comes great responsibility. He didn't know what that means yet, but its the last thing his uncle would ever give to him, so he kept it with him at all times.

When Peter was ten years, three months, and four days old, he met billionaire genius Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and his all-time hero (besides Captain America, but that hero was still frozen in time somewhere in the Antarctic). Upon meeting him, Peter promptly fainted.

When Peter was ten years, six months, and ten days old, he was adopted by his hero. He declared it the best day of his life.

When Peter was twelve, his dad was kidnapped by terrorists. Peter had never been big on God, especially after all that had already happened in his short lifetime, but he didn't know where else to turn. He couldn't handle losing another person, he'd already lost so many, Peter couldn't take losing his father too.

_I don't know if you're listening, or if you're even there, but if you can hear me, then please, God, let my dad be ok._

A few days later, Tony Stark escaped from the terrorists. When Peter first saw the Iron Man suit, he said nothing until after he had dropped a quarter in the swear jar (Pepper's idea), which was when he uttered "Holy _shit_, Dad," before once again passing out.

When Peter was thirteen, Tony started acting crazier than usual, partying like there's no tomorrow, drinking even more than he normally did; when Tony gave Pepper control of Stark Industries, Peter started to worry.

When Tony asked Pepper to become Peter's new legal guardian, Peter immediately thought that Tony no longer wanted him, that he'd done something wrong. He didn't say anything to Tony after that, not even a goodbye when Pepper took him back to her place.

When Peter found out that Tony did all that because he was dying of Palladium poisoning, he broke down in tears. The next time he saw his father, he ran into his arms, sobbing.

"I'm sorry!" he had yelled, surprising his father.

"For what? _You're_ not the one who was hiding the fact that he was dying."

"No, I..." Peter swallowed. "I heard you ask Pepper to be my new legal guardian. I... thought you didn't want me anymore."

The hero's eyes widened in shock as he released his son to look him in the eyes. "Peter, that's ridiculous! Why would you even think I'd ever want to give you up?"

"B-Because! If I wasn't around, then you could live the life you had before me! You could go to parties, a-and hang out with girls, and-"

Tony pulled the boy close again, silencing his upset rant, which turned to quiet sobs.

Once Peter had calmed down, Tony released him once more, though this time the young brunette wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Hey. Look at me, Petey."

Peter simply clenched his job, still too embarrassed about jumping to conclusions to look at his father. The older man sighed, gently grasping the boy's chin and turning Peter's face so his hazel eyes met Tony's deep brown eyes.

"Peter, you're my son, and I love you. And there is nothing- nothing, okay?- that anyone can say or do that will ever change that. No matter what happens, you are always wanted."

By this time, Peter had started crying again, so once more Tony took him into his arms, holding his son tightly.

Once the brunette had finished crying, the pair went out for ice cream, though Tony failed to mention this to Pepper before they left. She was not amused when they came back (she had been worried that they had been kidnapped).

When Peter had just turned fifteen, Loki attacked New York City with his alien army.

When the attack began, Peter had been at the library, helping Gwen Stacy tutor pretty much the entire football team. In truth, he had no interest in helping out the football team, they could all flunk out of school and become burger-flippers for all he cared, but helping out Gwen was another case entirely. When the blonde girl had asked him if he wanted to assist her with preparing the jocks for their upcoming math tests, Peter took one look into those bright green eyes and melted. "I'd love to," he'd replied, though there was a lot more blushing and stammering involved. He may or may not have freaked his Dad out when he came home with a stupid grin on his face whilst humming Disney songs, but then again, he didn't actually care, he got to spend time with _Gwen Stacy._

Okay, Gwen Stacy and the football team, but Peter chose to focus on the former rather than the latter.

He was in the middle of reteaching Flash Thompson how factoring works when the attack started. The entire study group fled the library, running out into the clogged city streets to see what the commotion was.

"...Holy fuckin' shit on a corndog." Flash said after a moment. The entire team nodded in agreement.

"L-Language..." Gwen chastised weakly, but she too felt that the statement summed up the situation nicely.

Peter himself said nothing, only stared into the sky, praying he wouldn't see him, praying that he wasn't caught up in all this.

His heart sank when he saw the red and gold suit rushing through the sky. Without another word, Peter took off, dodging people and parked cars left and right.

"Peter! Where are you going?!" Gwen called. When he didn't answer her, she started to chase after him. "Peter! Come back, it's not safe!"

The brunette was unfazed by her words, his common sense and self-preservation superseded by the terrifying thought of his father not surviving this battle. Peter pushed through the crowds, running as fast as his scrawny legs could take him.

_No no no, not my father, not him too, please, no!_

The police had formed a barrier, blocking off the battle from civilians. With relative ease, though, Peter was able to dodge them, fitting his scrawny body past them and screaming "DAD!" out into the battlefield.

"PETER! COME BACK!" He heard Gwen's voice, but didn't look back. Fearful tears filled his vision just as a figure grabbed him and pulled him off to the side.

"Let me go, let me go! My dad's out there!"

"Son, please calm down! Your father is fine, the police rounded up all the civilians!" The man who had grabbed him pleaded. At that moment, the young boy noticed the star-spangled spandex and the shield, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"My father's not a civilian, Captain! He's the one in the red and gold suit!"

The hero's baby-blue eyes widened. "Wait, what? You're Tony's- Tony has a kid?!"

"Hey, I'm not a kid! I'm fifteen!"

The argument could've gone on for a while had someone not run up to the Captain.

"Steve, what the hell are you- PETER PARKER WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

The brunette grinned weakly at the newcomer. "Hi, Natasha." His grin dropped. "You wouldn't happen to know where Dad is, would you?"

The assassin's expression softened, but still was stern. "Peter, it's too dangerous out here. Go back behind the police, your father will be fine."

"No! I won't lose my Dad! I can't lose him!"

"You _won't _lose him, I promise! Please, Peter, just go back and-"

The captain's comm buzzed loudly, cutting Natasha off. "_Iron Man to Captain America, can you hear me?"_

"Captain America to Iron Man, I hear you. What is it, Tony-?"

"Dad!" Peter cried out in relief.

"_Peter?! What the hell are you doing with Captain America in the middle of a battlefield?! _

_... Wow, that is _not _something I ever thought I'd ask you."_

"Dad, please don't get into this mess! You almost _died _just a year ago!"

"... _Cap, give your comm to my son."_

"What?! Tony, that's hardly appropriate-!"

_"Just for a minute, Steve. Please."_

Something in the billionaire's voice surprised Steve, something that almost resembled pleading. Without questioning him further, the soldier handed the teen the device.

"Dad!"

"_Hey, Petey. I want you to do something for me, okay?"_

The boy nodded. "Okay."

"_I want you to tell Pepper that I'm sorry. Rhodey, too."_

Peter's eyes widened as he glanced toward the sky. A huge portal had opened over Stark Tower, over his home.

And a red and gold suit was flying towards it with a missile.

"Dad, no. Don't you dare do what I think you're about to do."

"_I'm sorry kiddo."_

_**"Sir, you are down to five percent power."**_

"If you've ever cared about me, you won't do this!" Peter tried desperately.

"_I love you, Peter. Remember that."_

"DAD!" Peter cried out as the comm cut, the missile exploding in the portal. Seconds later a red and gold figure fell out as the portal closed.

"No..." He said with a small voice. Before his father could hit the ground, though, a giant green creature- the Hulk, Peter remembered- snatched him out of the air, bringing him to the ground with a really tall guy with long blonde hair and a hammer and a guy with a bow and arrows following him.

The second that his father was on the ground, Peter ran over to him, tears blurring his vision slightly. The man laid on the cracked pavement, lifeless and still. Upon reaching him, Peter collapsed to his knees, unable to stand anymore.

"No..." the brunette whispered once more, before laying down on his father's body. All is silent for a moment, save hushed whispers from the crowd and Peter's sobs.

"_**RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"**_

Without warning, the Hulk let out a deafening roar. Peter glanced up at him, startled, but immediately looked back down when he heard a gasp.

"Oh, god, what just happened? Please tell me no one kissed me."

"DAD!" Peter shouted, wrapping his arms around his father.

"Gah! Peter, Dad just came back from being mostly dead. No hugs!"

"Don't care."

Tony sighed, but still he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "So, like I was saying, what just happened?"

Steve, who was still a bit shell-shocked from what had just occurred, managed to reply "We won."

"Alright, hey! Hooray! Good job, guys. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just... take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I dunno what it is, but I wanna try it."

"We are not quite finished yet, Man of Iron." The hammer-wielding man said, his tone not quite joyful.

"Aww, but I don't wanna get up!"

Peter snickered at his father's laziness, but soon sobered when he heard a very familiar and very angry female voice.

"PETER BENJAMIN PARKER!"

"... Ohhh crap."

Gwen stormed through the police barricade, the look on her face furious enough to put the Hulk to shame.

"Why are they letting her through?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Her dad is their boss," Peter answered as he moved in front of the Avengers.

"Gwen, I can explain-"

The blonde gave him no time to do so, as she slapped him across the face the moment she was close enough.

"OW!"

"That's for being stupid and running off into a battlefield with giant space aliens and superheroes!"

Gingerly placing a hand on his stinging cheek, Peter gaped at her. "I told you, I can explain- mmph!"

Once again, Gwen cut him off, though this time, rather than with a slap, she had pulled Peter's lips firmly to her own, giving him a hard kiss. After a few seconds, she released the brunette, who resembled a stop sign in terms of color.

"And that," Gwen started, her own face flushed but her expression firm, "Is for being too stupid to pick up on the hints I've been dropping for a month now. Christ, Parker, how can you be so oblivious?!"

"I... uh... guh..." The brunette stammered stupidly. In response, the blonde girl sighed, pulling Peter into another, though a bit more chaste, kiss.

"For a straight-A student, you're kind of an idiot, Peter." She grinned hugely. "But now you're _my _idiot, so I think I'll just learn to live with that. We are in agreement that you're my idiot, right?"

Peter simply nodded, dumbstruck and slack-jawed.

"Good!" Gwen winked at him as she turned to walk away. "See you on Monday, Peter!"

The police officers moved apart as the blonde approached, nodding to her.

"None of this will ever reach my father, will it, boys?"

"No, Miss Stacy. Have a nice day, ma'am."

"You too, officer."

With that, the teenaged girl disappeared into the crowd, leaving the Avengers and Peter staring back at her.

"... She seems nice." Tony said after a moment. He grunted a bit as Steve helped him get up, letting the billionaire sling an arm over his shoulder.

Peter didn't respond, simply stared out into empty space.

"Er... I think he might be broken, Tony." The man with the bow and arrows said.

Tony simply chuckled. "Eh, he'll be fine! One of you, grab 'em and we'll go recapture a God of Mischief!"

That statement caused Peter to quickly snap out of his post-kiss catatonia. "Wait, what?"

A few minutes later, the Avengers (and Peter) were back at Stark Tower, surrounding a man who looked to be embedded into the floor, who apparently was the Norse god of Mischief, Loki. The man with the bow and arrows, who Peter now knew as Hawkeye, had one of his arrows pointed directly at Loki's throat.

"... If it's all the same to you, I think I'd like that drink now."

"... This is by far the weirdest day I've ever had. Even weirder than the day you came back with the suit, Dad."

It was, indeed, a very weird day, made only weirder by the fact that, once Loki was successfully detained, they all actually went out for shawarma.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the weirdness that began when Peter was fifteen years, two months, and six days old, the day on which he returned to his newly rebuilt home from a field trip to Oscorp to find the Avengers in his living room. Again.

"Oh, god, what now? Is _another _crazed god trying to take over the Earth?"

Thor scowled and started to get up, but Tony waved him off. "Come off it Thor, you said yourself that Loki went a little nuts. And Peter, no, no gods are trying to take over the world."

"Then... why are the Avengers in my living room?"

Tony grinned sheepishly. "Uh... well..." The genius threw his hands up in the air. "They live here now! Surprise!"

For a moment, Peter just stared at him, slack-jawed. "... Your surprises _suck, _Dad." With that, the brunette turned away.

"Where are you going?"

"To beat my head against a wall!" Peter scratched at the back of his next. "And to see if spider bites are supposed to itch..."

**A/N: Well, here you have it! The first installment of this new series is here!**

**This shall be fun...**


	2. The Mutant Question

**A/N: Hi, all! I'm sorry that this chapter took so long, but real life has been busy (and planning this mother out more thoroughly took longer than I thought it would... and I may have rewritten the latter half of this chapter eight ...or ten... or fifteen times). Thanks for the support!**

**Please note: I'm a writer, not a physicist or doctor. I have only a basic knowledge of genetics and whatever Bruce does. Most of this stuff I just looked up online.**

"Aaaand done!"

Peter stood back, admiring his handy work. Clint, who was standing next to the whirring coffee pot, raised an eyebrow, not exactly getting what Peter was talking about.

"Might I ask what you've accomplished, kid?"

The brunette grinned, gesturing grandly to a chart he had affixed to the wall. On it, everyone's name was on the left side and chores were listed along the top of the chart.

"This is what's called a chore chart! Seeing as there are now seven people who live here, including two guys who eat enough for five people, I figured that it'd be pertinent to assign duties to everyone so that we don't kill each other within the first week."

"... You do know that your Dad's never gonna go for this, right?"

Peter snickered and picked up a marker, putting an 'x' in the box where "Tony" and "Wash Dishes" met. "Why do you think I came up with it?"

Clint grinned at that. "Nice."

The brunette chuckled and tried to put down the marker, but found that it was inexplicably stuck to his hand. It took a lot of grunting and pulling, but eventually he did get the marker off, slamming it down on the nearby table.

Clint stared at him, eyebrow raised. Peter grinned sheepishly in response.

"Er... must've gotten something on my hands. Yeah, that's it..."

The archer didn't look at all convinced, but decided not press the issue, instead going to get his coffee. Unfortunately, he didn't grab onto the mug tightly enough, so as he pulled the cup away from the counter, it slipped out of his hand, hurtling towards the floor. Peter reacted immediately, snatching the mug out of the air and handing it back to Clint.

"Careful with that!"

Once again the archer stared at him, this time his expression dumbstruck. "Uh... Thanks... Have you always had such fast reflexes, kid?"

Peter stared at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what he had done. "Er... I think I hear Dad calling me! Bye Clint!"

The teenager fled the kitchen hurriedly, leaving Clint's question unanswered and both the archer and Natasha, who entered the room just as Peter had left, very confused.

"What's his hurry?" She asked as she grabbed her own coffee mug.

Clint simply shrugged in response. "... Hey, is that _my _shirt?"

The Russian turned away, her expression both indignant and sheepish. "What? I didn't do my laundry!"

"Tasha, you're not even allowed to go _near _a washing machine. Not after what happened last time."

In response, the redhead scoffed and turned away, taking her coffee with her back to her bedroom.

"Wait a second, are... are those my _boxers?!"_

Natasha stopped dead in her tracks. "... Maybe."

"Stop taking my clothes, woman!"

The assassin turned back around, grinning slyly. "Stop leaving them in my room, then."

At that, her partner turned a very interesting shade of red. "I... one, you suck. And two, give me my damn clothes back."

Once again, the Russian grinned at him. "Come and take them." With that, the assassin turned the corner, leaving a very confused archer behind.

After a moment, Natasha returned, rolling her eyes as she grabbed Clint and started to drag him off with her. "Clint, when I told you to come and take your clothes back, I meant follow me back to my bedroom."

"... Ohhh. Wait, so you mean-"

"Shut up, Barton."

* * *

Meanwhile, Peter had gone back to his room, not allowing himself to appear as freaked out as he was until the door had closed safely behind him, at which point he grabbed a pillow and shrieked into it.

_Oh god, what's happening to me? People aren't supposed to just stick to things, and I certainly have never been able react or move that fast!_

The brunette sighed, throwing the pillow back on his bed and rubbing his temples. "Okay, Parker, think. What could cause a sudden ability to stick to things and better reflexes-?"

Peter's eyes widened as he remembered a recent biology class, where they had talked about genetics. The teacher had mentioned something about mutants, about how there was a gene that caused them to... to...

"Shit. Shit shit shit."

Without further thought, Peter ran out of his room and headed down to where the one person he thought might be able to help him always was.

"Dr. Banner, I need to talk to you-!"

The physicist waved at him, not looking up from his experiment. "Not now, Peter, I'm in the middle of a very important experiment!"

"But I-!"

Without warning, a concentrated beam of light fired at a block of stone on the table Bruce was standing in front of, making a perfectly circular hole straight through it.

After a moment, Bruce picked up the stone, then set it back down and scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper. "Alright, now onto the next material. Peter, I'm really sorry, but I can't take a break right now. I'll be done in about an hour, so can you just-"

The doctor immediately clamped his mouth shut when he turned around and came face-to-face with Tony's son.

Standing upside down.

On the ceiling.

"_Now_ can you help me?"

"... I think I can just finish the experiment tomorrow." Bruce replied weakly.

Peter nodded and crawled back over to the wall, dismounting and landing on the floor like an Olympic gymnast. "Thanks, Doc. I... I'm just not really sure what's going on, and since you're kind of a doctor-"

"Peter, I'm a physicist, not a doctor. My work really doesn't involve... whatever it is that you're going through."

Peter's expression morphed into disappointment. "What? But... the other guy-"

"Is a result of gamma radiation exposure. I'm not a geneticist, kiddo. I'm afraid that I can't really help you on this one."

The brunette's shoulders sagged. "Thanks anyway, Dr. Banner..." He muttered as he turned away.

"Hold it. _I _might not be able to help you, but I think I know someone who can."

The teen brightened and turned back around to face Bruce. "Really?!"

The physicist nodded as he took his cell phone out of his pocket. "Tell your father that you want to accompany to a conference on nuclear physics this weekend; I'll call up an acquaintance of mine."

Peter grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Thanks so much, Bruce! I owe you one!" He yelled as he ran out of the lab.

Bruce chuckled, then cleared his throat as the person on the other end of the line picked up.

"Yes, I'd like to speak to Professor Xavier, please."

* * *

"A conference on nuclear physics?

The teen nodded. "Yeah. Bruce offered to take me to it this weekend. It looks really interesting, Dad! Can I please go?"

Tony sighed. "Peter, I don't know. It's only been a couple of months since the attack, and besides, what about you-know-who?"

Peter groaned. "There's nothing to worry about! Bruce has him under control! Please Dad?"

"Well... I'm not happy that you'll be missing the Disney marathon..."

"Steve and Thor can see all the Disney movies without me, Dad."

Tony hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Oh, alright. But I swear to god if I have to fly out there and rescue you from a giant green rage monster I'm gonna be pissed."

Peter beamed. "Thanks, Dad! I promise, you won't regret it!"

"Yeah, yeah, now go forth, my son! In the name of science!"

"... You're so weird."

* * *

A few days later found Bruce and Peter at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. When the teen had asked why they were going to a school, Bruce had simply replied "You'll see," and not responded to Peter's subsequent requests for a more in-depth explanation than that.

Upon first glance, the school appeared to be pretty normal; the main building was around the size of the Stark Mansion in Orlando, though there was no giant fountain in front of it unlike the mansion, and there were people ranging from puberty to young adulthood in age range scattered about the area.

The inside of the school, however, appeared to be completely empty. Not a soul was about in the entrance, and it was completely silent save for Peter and Bruce's footsteps. The house itself somewhat reminded Peter of an art museum, having that elegant and formal feel about it, and also the feeling that touching absolutely anything in it would end painfully for the perpetrator. Despite Bruce's reassurances on the way over that the school was perfectly safe (though he wouldn't tell the youth _why _he was saying that), Peter still felt extremely uneasy; it was as if he were a housecat in the wild, surrounded by its giant relatives that seemed like they would quite enjoy ripping him limb from limb and feasting on his innards.

Sensing the teen's discomfort, Bruce patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Peter, don't act so nervous! I told you, no one here would even _consider _hurting you." The scientist paused for a brief moment. "Except for Logan, if he were in a bad mood. But I don't think he's home right now, so there's nothing to worry about."

"I'd be a whole lot less uneasy if you'd just tell me what's going on! And who's Logan, anyway?"

"All in good time, Peter." Bruce said, once again avoiding the question. "In any case, it won't do you any good to worry."

_Easy for you to say; if you're threatened, you turn into a giant green rage monster and throw the threatening thing out a window!_

"Now, now, Mr. Parker, there's no need to be so reproachful."

The brunette nearly jumped a foot in the air at the unfamiliar voice, turning sharply to see the source. A bald man in a nice suit and a wheelchair smiled kindly at him, as did the dark-skinned woman behind him, the unexpected light blue color of her eyes and her snow-white hair surprising Peter a bit.

"Holy-! Who are you?! And how do you know my name?!"

The man smiled again. "To answer your first question, Mr. Parker, I am Professor Charles Xavier, headmaster of the Xavier Institute. As for how I know your name, Bruce informed me of your, ah, _situation _when we spoke on the phone earlier."

Peter recoiled, mentally scolding himself for missing such an obvious answer. "O-Oh... right, I guess that makes sense."

Bruce chuckled, then shook the professor's hand. "It's good to see you again, Charles. You too, Ororo."

The dark-skinned woman smiled once more. "Likewise, Bruce. Though I suppose that would be a good thing, seeing as most of our past meetings have involved Logan and... what is that you have taken to calling your alter ego, 'the other guy', was it?"

The scientist rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I really only call him that around the rest of the team, you can just call him the Hulk. And yeah, I guess that we haven't seen each other in a while could be seen as a good thing."

Ororo chuckled in response. As the three adults conversed, Peter noticed three things: one, Ororo was extremely beautiful; two, his sense of uneasiness had all but completely disappeared; three, he still had no idea how Xavier knew that he'd been insulting Bruce in his mind.

The first was easily shaken off; while he did admit that the white-haired woman was highly attractive in ..._many_ aspects, he reminded himself that one, he was underage, and two, he had a girlfriend who he cared for deeply and wouldn't give up even if it meant the end of the world, no matter how alluring this unattainable exotic beauty was to him (plus he had no doubt that both women could and would kick his ass if he tried anything). For the second, he simply attributed it to the fact that having met actual human beings in this place made the manor seem less imposing. Peter had always found huge, vacant houses to be unnerving; it was part of the reason he hated it whenever his Dad went on business trips when he was younger (and why he had struck up a few friendships with the sentient objects around the house; say what you will about the toast it made, but the toaster was a funny little machine).

However, the third thing wasn't so easily waved away. How _did _the professor know what he had been thinking? Unless he had accidentally said what he thinking aloud (and he hadn't, Bruce would've glared at him if he had), then the only way for Xavier to have know that would have been if the professor had read his-

Peter's eyes widened, the clicking in his head nearly audible, like it was whenever he figured out a particularly difficult _Professor Layton _puzzle.

_Oh. _

"You're a telepath, aren't you, Professor?"

Abruptly, the conversation halted, and the adults stared at the teen for a moment before the paraplegic smiled. "Well done, Peter. I must say, I'm rather impressed that you figured it out as quickly as you did. Most people take much longer."

Peter couldn't help but beam a little with pride. "Yeah, well, I'm pretty perceptive, if I do say so myself."

"Indeed. Well then, shall we begin?"

The teen cocked his head to the side a bit in confusion. "Begin what?"

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Peter found himself in a skin-tight black suit and standing in the middle of a silvery-metal-colored room (the 'Danger Room'), the professor, Ororo, and Bruce in an observation room high above him.

"You're absolutely sure that this is safe, right?" Peter asked for what must have been the third time, hoping that the nerves he was bursting with weren't too evident in his voice.

"_Once again, Peter, yes. This is just a test to see your abilities. If at any point you appear to be overwhelmed, I can end the simulation from up here. Now then, if you're ready?"_

The teen hesitated briefly, then, reminding himself that he had to find out, he had to be sure if he really was... one of those guys, took a deep breath and said "Okay. I'm ready."

"_Then we will begin the test... now."_

The second that the professor said the word 'now', the room sprang to life. Lasers began firing out of the walls, which Peter easily dodged, but was still startled by. However, when he evaded the final beam by clinging onto the wall, the teen noticed the floor getting closer and only escaped being crushed into a Peter-pancake by hopping off at the very last second, landing squarely on his feet.

_Hah! Take that, wall! You won't be crushing Peter Parker today! Or... any day, preferably._

Peter's internal victory party was quickly cut short, however, when he noticed the incredibly large and menacing robots charging straight at him.

"Ah, crap," Peter muttered, before running in the opposite direction from the robots. That strategy failed rather quickly when he nearly fell into a giant hole that had opened in the floor in front of him.

"Oh, come on! First lasers, then falling walls of doom, then frikkin' _giant robots_, and now a huge hole in the floor?! What's next, alien invaders?" The youth complained.

_Okay, Peter, think. Giant robots... giant hole in the floor... and you can jump really high! I've got it!_

Peter let the robots get within inches of him, then turned around and spread his arms as if to say 'Come at me!'. At the very last second, the teen jumped out of the mechas' path, leaving them to fall into the hole and break into pieces.

The brunette pumped his fist in victory, filled with pride.

Of course, then he noticed that one robot hadn't fallen into the trap.

"You just can't let me have any victories, can you?!" Peter complained again before fleeing, searching desperately for a solution when his eyes fell upon a bar on the ceiling. With amazing agility, the teen made a calculated leap from the wall onto the robot's shoulders, using the shiny metal machine-man as a sort of boost to jump up and grab the bar, which he pulled out of the ceiling. Once he landed back on his feet, Peter jumped back onto the robot's shoulders, yelling "Fore!" before swing the bar like a golf club, knocking off the mecha's head and sending it flying into the wall, where it promptly exploded. Meanwhile, the rest of the robot, rendered useless without a head, shut down and collapsed, causing Peter to lose his balance and land on his rear, the metal bar clattering to the floor beside him.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, the teen looked up at the observation deck. "So, how did I do?"

There was no response from any of the adults. The silence was broken moments later when the door to the Danger Room opened and a man said "Oh, come on! I just fixed this place last week!"

That was when Peter realized that he had utterly destroyed the Danger Room.

"Er... sorry."

* * *

"So, Doctor, um..."

The huge, blue-furred man smiled amiably at Peter. "Dr. McCoy, Peter."

"Right, Dr. McCoy, um, what exactly are we doing here- OW!"

Peter jumped a bit as the needle pierced his skin, hissing in pain.

"Relax, Peter. I'm just taking a blood sample."

"W... Why?" _Don't look at the needle, don't look at the needle, don't look at the needle..._

"I need to run a test, to see if you actually possess the X-gene, or if..."

Peter glanced over at the doctor, then immediately turned his gaze away the instant he caught sight of the blood in the tube. "If what?"

"... Well, regardless, I do need to take a blood sample for this. You can look back now, Peter, I've taken out the needle."

Peter rubbed his now-bandaged arm, rubbing the sore area. _What is it with these people and never telling me anything?_

* * *

Another half hour passed before the professor and the others approached Bruce and Peter, the former having gotten half-way in the chapter of the science book he was reading, and the latter long having finished off the cookie and apple juice Dr. McCoy had given to him to his blood get flowing again, his phone's battery charge nearly depleted from playing on it nonstop.

"Peter, I've finished analysing your blood sample."

The teen felt his stomach drop, his heart beating at a much faster pace. "... O-Okay, before you say anything, I just want to say that I'm okay with being a... a... mutant," Peter finally said, "and that I'm really grateful for all of your help, and I'll do my best to learn to control my powers and fit into society-"

"Peter, you tested negative for the X-gene. You aren't a mutant."

"Oh thank god." Peter said, breathing a sigh of relief before noticing the look on the actual mutants' faces. "I-I mean, not that there's anything _wrong _with being a mutant, I just- I'll shut up now."

The professor chuckled a bit before becoming somber again. "Peter, you may have tested negative for the X-gene, but that doesn't exactly put you in the 'Normal Human' category."

Peter sat up, eyes wide. "Wh-What? But... what do you mean?"

"While you don't have the genetic sequencing of a mutant, you don't possess the right sequence to be labeled ordinary."

"... Can you please explain that in normal English?"

"You possess not only human DNA... but _spider _DNA as well."

Peter blinked, mouth hanging open. "... Say wha?"

The professor sighed. "Peter, when did you first notice that you had begun to change?"

"Uh... guess it was a couple days ago, after the field trip to Oscorp."

Bruce did a double take. "Wait, _Oscorp?! _Why didn't you mention that earlier?!"

"I-I didn't think it was important! The only thing out of the ordinary that happened was when I got bitten by a-!" Peter froze, eyes wide in realization.

"Bitten by what, Peter?"

Peter mumbled something under his breath.

"Could you repeat that?"

"...pider..."

"Louder, please."

"A spider! I was bitten by a spider, okay?!"

"What?! Peter, Oscorp has been experimenting on spiders for _months_ now! You could've been exposed to... radiation... Oh, god, Tony's gonna kill me."

"Bruce, please calm down! There were no signs of radiation poisoning in Peter's blood sample!" Hank exclaimed, noticing the slight green tinge to Bruce's skin.

The scientist took a deep breath, his skin returning to normal. "S-Sorry about that."

After a slight pause, Peter spoke up. "So... what does this make me?"

"You are what's called a mutate. Bruce and the Fantastic Four also fall under this classification. Whereas mutants, such as myself, Hank, and Ororo, are born with their powers, mutates, such as yourself, gain them through exposure to mutagenic agents, such as radiation."

"Well, what do you recommend that I do?"

"For now? Go home and keep on living as you normally do. If you notice any further mutations, please don't hesitate to contact me."

* * *

Upon returning to New York, Peter deferred his father to Bruce for any details about the 'convention', and ran to his room, pulling out a small box from under his bed and opening it. Carefully, he unfolded the letter inside.

_Dear Peter,_

_You're growing up so quickly now, aren't you? I swear, yesterday you were a little baby boy in RIchard's arms, and here you are now, ten years old today! You're becoming quite the little gentleman, Peter, and I'm proud of you. I know that things have been rough for you lately, what with your parents and your Aunt May being... gone, you've been going through a lot of difficult things. Well, take it from me, an old man who knows: Those things send us down the path we're supposed to take in life, and no matter what road you end up on, you've got great things waiting for you, son. You owe the world your gifts. You just have to figure out how to use them. Whatever you do in life, whatever you decide, remember that there are people who care about you, and with great power, comes great responsibility._

_Love,_

_Uncle Ben_

"Sir?"

Peter snapped out of his daydream and looked over at the clerk.

"That'll be $12.75, sir."

"Ah, sorry." The teen quickly handed her his credit card, which she swiped and gave back. As she started to bag his purchases, the cashier quirked an eyebrow and glanced up at him.

"I-It's for my mom." Peter explained quickly, disregarding the fact that the closest thing he had to a mom (Pepper) couldn't actually sew.

She stared at him for another second, but said nothing as she put the rest of the red and blue fabrics into the plastic bag.

**A/N: I snuck a few of my headcanons in here, including:**

**Natasha is notoriously bad at domestic activities (the washer has never forgiven her for what happened the first and only time she tried to do laundry in Stark Manor).**

**Peter enjoys puzzle games (I blame this headcanon on having just finished Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask), does not like big, empty houses (I blame this one on how Uncle Ben died in this verse), and does not like needles (I got nothing).**

**Tony made all of his kitchen appliances sentient for the lulz. At this point, Clint has had a total of five arguments with the microwave, and has lost five arguments with the same microwave. **

**Also, the Disney thing: Steve could only have seen up to **_**Saludos Amigos **_**(1943) in the Disney Animated Canon, assuming they let him watch cartoons in between kicking HYDRA butt. Thor has seen none of them. Tony aims to fix that. **

**So yeah, that's the second chapter (almost two months after the first)!**

**Remember to Review!**


	3. Spectacular

**A/N: Nothing to report! Enjoy!**

Peter sighed as he looked down at his bandaged fingers, wishing that someone had told him before he started the damn project that _sewing is fucking difficult. _He had lost count of how many times he'd accidentally pricked his own fingers, let alone how many times he'd gotten off-course with the thread and had to start over.

Despite the lingering discomfort, Peter pushed the project to the back of his mind as he walked into the kitchen, where Clint had already begun his morning argument with the microwave.

"Look, all I want is to heat up this frozen breakfast sandwich. Is that really too much to ask of you, the microwave, whose _job_ it to heat things up?"

"_I'm sorry, but since I am, as you said three point two days prior, a _'fucking ugly pile of scrap metal', _I cannot comply with your request. Perhaps you ought to ask the toaster for assistance."_

"_Hey, don't drag me into your little feud! I have nothing to do with this!"_

Clint groaned in frustration, causing Natasha, who was quietly sipping her coffee behind him, to chuckle a bit.

"You know, Barton, you _could_ try asking it nicely."

The archer scowled at his partner, but turned to the microwave, putting on his best kiss-ass smile. "May I _please _have this breakfast sandwich heated up?" He asked, his voice absolutely _dripping _with false sincerity and heavily implied ire.

"_Processing request... not on your life, bucko."_

Clint threw up his hands in defeat. "Okay, fuck it, I'll just have cereal. Again."

At this point, Peter, who had slipped into the kitchen unnoticed in the midst of the man and machine's argument, chuckled and grabbed a frozen sandwich of his own, walking over to the microwave. "Good morning, Derick."

"_A good morning to you as well, Peter. The usual, I presume?"_

"Yep!" He replied, placing the sandwich in the microwave and shutting the door. In approximately ten seconds (Tony had upgraded the microwave while giving it sentience), the machine beeped, signalling to Peter that his breakfast was heated to his liking. The teen promptly pulled it out and took a large bite out of the sandwich, turning to face Clint, who was staring at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"Wut?" He asked, his mouth still full of egg, cheese and some sort of meat.

"You have _got _to be shitting me! Why doesn't that hunk of junk give you a hard time?"

"_Because this '_hunk of junk', _as you so eloquently put it, actually _enjoys _Peter's company."_

Natasha snickered into her coffee. "Well, Barton, it appears that you've broken your record. You were owned by the microwave _twice _in one morning!"

Clint just muttered angrily as he got out a spoon in response. Peter chuckled once more, then looked up at the clock.

"_Sfit!" _Quickly, the teen stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and swallowed. "I'm late, gotta run! Bye Natasha, bye Clint!" Peter yelled hurriedly as he ran out of the kitchen, nearly running head first into Thor.

"Good morrow, Son of Stark-"

"Sorry, Thor, no time! I'll catch you later, okay!"

With that, the brunette ducked into the elevator, willing it to go faster. Once the doors opened, Peter rushed out as quickly as he possibly could, but unfortunately not fast enough to evade his father.

"Hey, now, squirt, are you trying to sneak off to school without saying goodbye to your dear ol' dad?"

Peter squirmed under Tony's arm, trying to escape. "Dad, I don't have time for this! I'm gonna be late for school!"

"I can take you!"

"Dad, no. I'm not going to have you carry me to school princess style in the armor. Not after what happened last time."

"Hey, those assholes had it coming!"

"You didn't need to scare them half to death by almost firing a laser at them!"

Beside them, Pepper giggled. Even after all these years, she still found Tony's interactions with his son to be both amusing and heartwarming at the same time. After she and Tony had broken up almost five years ago, she'd been worried about him, all alone in his big mansion. When he decided to adopt Peter, she'd been surprised (and more than a little... _concerned _about how Tony could barely take care of _himself, _let alone a child), but once she saw how happy the genius was with his new son, she found her concerns to be without cause.

A tap on her shoulder snapped Pepper out of her thoughts. "U-Um... Miss Potts?"

Pepper turned, smiling at the familiar voice and the man who possessed it. "I told you, Happy, call me Pepper."

The tall man blushed self-consciously. "R-Right, Pepper, sorry. A-Anyway, um... I was... I-I was wondering..."

"Yes, Happy?"

Happy blushed even harder. "I-I was w-wondering if... maybe, if you're not busy, if you m-might, um, might like to-"

"Oh my god, Happy, have you _still _not asked Pepper out yet?! I gave you my permission _months _ago, man!" Tony interrupted loudly, releasing Peter from his grip.

This time, it was Pepper's turn to blush. "Wh-What?"

"Mr. Stark!" Happy shrieked, his face bright red.

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, let's make this simple. Pepper, would you like to accompany Happy to dinner and movie this Saturday?"

"Sir, please don't-!"

"Shh!" Tony interrupted again, holding his hand up. "Let the lady speak!"

The redhead looked away shyly, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger nervously. "I... I'd love to go out with you, Happy."

Happy's eyes widened in shock. "R... R-Really?"

"And they all lived happily ever after! The End!" Tony said with a flourish. "Hey, wait, where's Peter?"

"Bye, Dad!" The aforementioned teen yelled, already out the door.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the brunette youth collapsed into his desk in his first period class, panting heavily from having run all the way from Stark Tower to his high school. Before he could fully catch his breath, however, a pair of delicate hands covered his eyes, blinding him.

"Hey-!" He started.

"Guess who." A familiar voice cut him off, stopping his protests and forcing a grin onto his face.

"Hmm... could it be my wonderful, brilliant, beautiful girlfriend?"

Gwen giggled, pulling her hands away and giving her boyfriend a quick peck on the lips. "Why, aren't we ever the flatterer this morning?"

"It's not flattery if its the truth, Gwen." Peter replied, causing her to giggle again. Just then, the bell rang and students hurried to get in their seats as the teacher walked in.

"See you at lunch?" Gwen whispered as she got into the desk in front of Peter's.

He nodded in response, then turned his attention to the teacher.

* * *

"So, what's with all the bandages?"

Peter jumped a bit at the question. "B-Bandages? What, uh, what bandages?"

Gwen raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "The bandages on your hand, duh."

"Oh!" Peter laughed nervously. "You mean _those _bandages! Uh... I had some trouble with... the printer! Y-Yeah, there was a really bad paper jam, a-and... well, I got a lot of paper-cuts."

Gwen's eyebrow remained quirked. "A... paper jam? Really, Peter? Is that the best excuse you could come up with-?"

"_There _you two are!" Someone interrupted loudly, causing the couple to jump.

_Thank you, you red-haired, loud-mouthed angel of the lord! _"H-Hey, MJ!"

"H-Hello, Mary Jane."

"Don't you 'Hey, MJ!' and 'Hello, Mary Jane' me! Why is it that you lovebirds are always trying to get away from us?!"

"Us?" Peter looked over and saw the other part of the 'Us' that she was referring to. "Oh, hey, Harry!"

The brunette grinned at his friend, taking a seat next to Peter. "Hey, Pete! Hi, Gwen. Don't mind MJ, you know how crazy she gets when she thinks people are avoiding her."

"Hey! I resent that!" The redhead glared at Harry for another second, then straightened as a huge grin overtook her features. "Anyway! Guess what just happened?"

"You... got an A on your science test?" Gwen guessed.

"You're cutting your hair and selling it to make wigs for cancer patients?" Peter asked.

"You're finally getting the lobotomy you so clearly require?" Harry deadpanned.

MJ glared at him once more, then shook her head. "No, nope, and fuck you, Harry! The cast listing for _The Little Mermaid_ was just posted!"

The group straightened; Ariel had been MJ's dream role since she saw the show on Broadway when it first opened. "And?" They pressed in unison.

The grin became even wider. "_I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's starting right nooooooow!" _She sang loudly. "_Watch and you'll seeeee! Someday I'll beeee! PART OF YOUR WOOOOOORLD!"_

"You got the part?!" Peter exclaimed incredulously, standing up.

The redhead nodded enthusiastically, bouncing up and down a bit.

"Wow, congratulations, MJ!" Peter said, walking over to hug her.

"You got Ariel! That's great!" Gwen gushed as she joined in the hug.

Harry grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

The group proceeded to chatter happily for the rest of their lunch period. When the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, they all said their goodbyes and headed for their respective classes.

Or at least, that's what Peter had planned to do before he was stopped by a teacher in the middle of the hallway.

"Mr. Parker?"

Peter turned around. "Uh, yes?"

She handed him a yellow slip of paper. "Please go to the office right away."

The teen looked at the sheet in surprise. "Did... did I do something wrong?"

"You're not in trouble. Your father has signed you out for the day."

He looked at her, his expression alarmed. "Is everything okay?"

She hesitated. "I... I think you might want to see for yourself."

* * *

When Peter arrived at the office, he was surprised to find Steve and Natasha waiting for him, rather than his dad.

"Guys? What's going on, why are you here? Where's," he swallowed a lump in his throat, "Where's Dad?"

Steve looked away uncomfortably and Natasha sighed. "Peter, your father-"

Suddenly, a young, high-pitched voice interrupted her. "HEY! I wanna tell him, I wanna tell him!"

Peter stared at them in confusion. "What the... who was that?"

Natasha sighed again and moved to the side, revealing a little boy, no older than four, in a too-big sweater. His dark-brown hair was mussed, possibly from sleep, and his big chocolate colored eyes stared back at Peter expectantly.

"... Oh god, did you guys kidnap an evil dictator's son to try and force peace?"

Steve and Natasha's eyes both widened in shock, but the little boy started laughing uncontrollably. "Oh, man, good one, Petey!"

This time it was Peter's turn to stare in shock. "W-Wait a second, 'Petey'? The only person who calls me that is... _Dad?!_"

"Bingo!"

Peter looked up at the pair of adults. "Okay, this may be the weirdest question that I've ever asked, but why does my father currently resemble a four-year-old version of himself?"

Steve hesitated briefly. "Short answer? Loki."

Peter sighed, picking up his father, who protested a bit to being held, but quieted down quickly. "And... the long answer?"

"Loki escaped his imprisonment on Asgard somehow, came to Midgard, broke into the tower, turned your father into a child, and then disappeared. Thor went after him, but came back after about an hour." Natasha elaborated. "He says that the enchantment should wear off after about a week, but it could be sooner or later than that."

"So... basically, instead of acting like a four-year-old, now he _is _a four-year-old."

"HEY!"

"Pretty much, yeah." Steve agreed, nodding.

Tony turned to glare at the super-soldier. "Don't agree with him, Stebe!"

A silence fell over the office for a moment.

"Tony," Steve began, "Did... Did you just call me 'Stebe'?"

"N-No!" The four-year-old shouted, flushing. "I called you Stebe!" He paused. "I-I mean, Stebe! Stebe! Stebe Stebe Stebe Stebe _Stebe __**Stebe FUCKDAMMIT!**_"

"Oh my god he's adorable." Natasha stated incredulously.

The still-flushing child glared at the assassin. "Sh-Shut up, Natatha!" Tony paused again. "OH COME ON!"

Peter chuckled. "Well, I think that we should probably head back to the tower, seeing as I've been excused from the rest of my classes."

"Good idea. Although, fair warning, he fell asleep on the way here, he's liable to do it again."

"H-HEY! Don't tell Pee-tah that!" A pause. "GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!"

* * *

Sure enough, Tony did fall asleep on the drive back to the tower, despite his protests that he wasn't even tired. Peter had to admit, his dad really was unbearably cute as a little kid. The oversized sweater (which was Natasha's; apparently it was the smallest they could find, and it was that or let Tony run around butt-naked, since none of his own clothes fit) did nothing to take away from the adorableness factor, and in fact increased it exponentially.

Quietly, Steve removed Tony from the car-seat (where they got that, Peter had no clue), shushing him softly when the child began to fuss because of his disturbed nap.

Peter grinned at the scene, something that did not escape the blonde's notice.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just never expected you to be so good with kids."

Steve flushed a bit. "Wh-What? I'm not good with kids..."

Peter chuckled, patting Steve on the shoulder. "I think that Dad would disagree. I'm going to call Pepper, okay?"

As the teen walked into the house, Steve looked down at the sleeping child in his arms. At that moment, the tiny Tony was curled up against the super-soldier's chest, gripping his shirt loosely and breathing softly.

Steve could think of many words he'd use to describe the billionaire. _Cute _was not one of them. Arrogant, yes. Drunkard, yes. Handsome- wait, what? Where did _that _come from?

Well, in any case, under normal circumstances, Steve would never refer to Tony as cute.

Under these circumstances, though? Tony was the very _definition _of the word cute.

Tony sighed in his sleep and turned in Steve's arms, and the blonde couldn't help but smile.

* * *

A few hours later, while the adult Avengers and Tony were in the living room watching TV, Peter had finally completed his little sewing project. Standing back, the teen admired the red-and-blue suit, the spider insignia displayed proudly on the chest and those web-shooters Peter had been working on stored safely in the gloves.

"_Attention all units; we have a bank robbery in progress at 7th Avenue. All units, respond."_

Peter looked at his old radio; he had no idea why the old hunk of junk sometimes picked up police messages, but he'd never seen a reason to fix it. Now, though, he was grateful for it. The brunette looked over at the suit he had just completed.

His father was out of commision for the next week.

The team would be too distracted by this to be helpful (and didn't respond to bank robberies, anyway).

In his experience, the police had always been useless.

He had freaking superpowers.

_With great power, comes great responsibility._

Without another thought, Peter grabbed the suit.

* * *

A few hours later, the would-be robbers found themselves in a net-shaped web, and the police and the bystanders found themselves both amazed and baffled.

"All yours, officers!" The mysterious masked man called, swinging away a bit clumsily.

Chief Stacy looked up at this spandex-clad vigilante. "Hey! Just who the hell are you, anyway?!"

The web-slinger landed on a nearby sign, pausing briefly. "Me?" He replied eventually. "I'm just your friendly neighborhood _Spiderman_!"

**A/N: And thus, the web-slinging begins!**

**A note: I know the whole "Loki-turns-one-or-all-of-the-Avengers-into-little-kids" has been done to death, but I just love the idea of kid!Tony. So, to mix it up, he has his adult memories and mind, though he has regained the speech impediments (another headcanon) he had at that age.**

**Remember to Review~!**


	4. Reunions and Secrets

**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!**

**Also, something I learned while on the Marvel Database: There actually **_**is **_**a Spiderpig in Marvel, Spider-Ham. Uh, wow, Marvel writers. There is also Ducktor Doom, Nick Furry, Hulk Bunny, and... Captain Americat. **

Saturday mornings in Stark Tower were a lot different from every other morning of the week. No one was rushing to go anywhere, Clint didn't argue with the microwave (the microwave had decided that Saturday was a good day to be civil to the archer, for some reason), Steve cooked breakfast (he was actually a great cook, but it had been decided that he could only cook on Saturdays or they'd all be addicted to his pancakes and get fat), and Tony would usually be nursing a hangover.

Usually, but not today. Today, the tiny four-year-old version of Peter's father sat at the breakfast table in the Captain America jammies that Natasha had gotten him, which he'd protested against of course, but had shut up with one look from the assassin, kicking his short legs in his chair and eating Steve's pancakes, which were arranged to look like Mickey Mouse.

"You do realize that I'm not _actually _four, right, Stebe?" Tony had asked, quirking a tiny eyebrow. He had long given up on trying to correct his mispronunciation, as he vaguely remembered having trouble with v's and sh's as an _actual_ four-year-old.

Steve just chuckled in response and ruffled the boy's hair. "Just eat your pancakes, Tony."

The child flushed and scowled a bit, but silently ate his breakfast.

"_... And in other news, a bank robbery at First National on 7th Avenue was stopped last night by a masked vigilante. This unknown hero was seen swinging on a web-like structure, using the same compound to trap the robbers in a net. When asked who he was, the web-slinging hero called himself 'your friendly neighborhood Spiderman'."_

Peter nearly choked on his flapjacks, causing everyone to stare at him while he coughed erratically.

"Um... you okay, Pee-tah?" Tony asked, looking concerned.

E-Er, yeah, I'm fine, just... just swallowed wrong, that's all!" The teen lied when he regained his breath.

His miniaturized father stared at him for a moment, looking doubtful, then shrugged and turned in the direction of the TV. "So, Spiderman, huh? That's a pretty cool name. Costume could use some work, though."

Peter gaped at his father. "Wh-What? What's wrong with his costume?"

"Well, for one thing, spandex? Really?"

"What's wrong with spandex?" Steve asked, somewhat hurt by the perceived insult to his own uniform.

"Nothing, on a guy like you. Spandex works for you. On a scrawny kid like that, though? Spandex is not at all flattering."

While Steve blushed at the ambiguity of 'Spandex works for you', Peter scowled, bringing his empty plate to the sink and grabbing his backpack.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Library!"

"Okay! Don't hire any prostitutes or buy any drugs!"

"... You know, most of the things you've said this morning sound really disturbing coming out of a four-year-old's mouth!" Peter commented as the elevator door shut, heading not for the ground floor, but for the roof. He decided that if he wanted to impress anyone, he needed to start practicing his heroics. Donning his suit, the now-masked web-slinger took a running start off the building, using his webs to latch on to the nearest building and swing away from his home.

'_Scrawny kid'? Gee, thanks, Dad; that _really_ helps my self-esteem._

He flipped in the air, letting himself get closer to the ground before shooting another web.

_I mean, yeah, its not like he _knows _about the whole web-slinging thing, but would it kill him to be a _little_ more sensitive?_

"Hey, it's Spiderman!" Peter heard someone in the streets below shout. A cheer rose up from the people below, surprising the masked hero.

_Huh. Guess a lot of people must have seen that news report. _He swung a bit closer to the ground, catching sight of a few newspapers on the stand. Most of them featured a full-color photograph of him, with headlines that could either be boiled down to 'Who is Spiderman?' or 'Masked Web-slinger stops bank heist'. _Or the newspaper industry isn't as dead as I thought._

Giving a brief wave to the crowd that had formed behind him, Peter shot another line and hopped onto a tall building, taking in the view of New York city.

_You know... there are a lot of superheroes who go up against the big bad supervillains like Loki or that Doctor Doom guy, but you don't see a lot of superheroes going up against thieves or muggers around here. Dad and the others may be more concerned with the safety of the world at large, but what about good ol' NYC? What about all the people who live here?_

Peter glanced over at Central Park briefly. Even from this height, he could see people running about the giant area, looking like ants from Peter's viewpoint. Every one of those ants had a life, a family, had dreams.

Peter looked down at his gloved hand and balled it into a fist.

_The world needs Iron Man. But maybe New York can settle for Spiderman._

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the tower, a fight had broken out amongst two members of the team. At the moment, Natasha and Tony were having what looked to be a contest to see who could glare at the other longer, whilst the rest of the team looked on nervously.

"Tony," Natasha began, her voice steady but laced with explicit frustration bordering on anger, "Please put on the hat so we can go to the park."

The four-year-old crossed his arms, scowling stubbornly. "No. I refuse to wear something as tacky and silly as that hat."

"Tony, I don't know if you've noticed, but you're wearing a Captain America T-Shirt. What difference does the hat make?" Clint asked, trying to move things along (secretly he wanted to go to the park himself).

"IT'S A FROG HAT!" Tony shouted, stomping his foot in frustration. "I'm not wearing a stupid frog hat in public, Natatha!"

"It's _adorable_. Tony, I'm not going to ask you again. You can either put on the hat of your own volition, or I can force you to put on the hat."

The child simply glared in response. Natasha sighed, standing up. "Okay, I warned you. Clint? Grab him."

The archer looked surprised at the order, but since he knew how stubborn his partner could be, he decided not to argue with her and grabbed the four-year-old, who struggled and squirmed in Clint's grip.

"H-HEY! Clint, you stupid motherfu-!"

Natasha cut off the little boy's curse by pulling the leaf-green hat over his eyes, temporarily confusing him.

"What the-?!" Tony quickly pushed up the hat, considering taking it off and throwing it to the ground, but ultimately deciding that one, this argument had become utterly tedious, and two, he _really _wanted to go see the polar bears at the Central Park Zoo.

"When I get my adult body back, you're all gonna be regretting eber forcing me to wear this stupid hat."

"Oh, hush, you look so cute, don't ruin it by talking." Bruce teased, tapping the child's nose lightly.

Tony huffed and extended his tiny middle finger. "Fuck you, Banner."

"If you weren't so adorable, Stark, I might be offended." Bruce replied with a laugh.

* * *

"Tony, don't press up against the glass, you'll irritate the polar bear."

The little brunette scoffed, but did as he was told. "Yes, _Mommy_." He replied sarcastically, causing Natasha to grimace at him.

Thor looked over at the others, confused. "I do not understand. Why has the child Stark referred to Lady Natasha as his mother? She is much too young to have given birth to him."

Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thor, it was just a joke- Tony, what did Natasha just say about pressing up against the glass?"

"But I can't seeeee!" The boy whined. He pressed against the glass harder just to spite them.

Steve chuckled and picked the boy up.

"H-Hey! Stebe, just what is it that you think you're doing?!"

"Giving you a boost so you can see." He replied, placing Tony on his shoulders.

"Gibing me a- oh, I see what you mean."

Though he would never say it aloud, Tony was secretly glad that Steve had been the one to help him out (though he did note that he'd have a better view on Thor's shoulders). If he had actually been the kid he was at four, he'd probably be shrieking with delight at getting to sit on Captain America's shoulders, and even now he felt just a tiny urge to scream. Thankfully, he still had his adult mind, and therefore he still retained the (admittedly very view) inhibitions that he had.

"Oh, isn't that just precious!" Someone said behind them. Steve turned around to see a pretty blonde woman holding the hand of a tiny girl who looked to be about Tony's age.

"Father and Son bonding day?" She asked, smiling brightly.

"O-Oh, no, ma'am, he isn't-"

"Yeah! We're habing a great time, aren't we, _Daddy_?" Tony interrupted. He grinned slyly. Even as a little kid, teasing Steve was irresistibly fun.

"Wha- _Tony!" _The blonde hissed, looking up at the boy.

The woman giggled. "Aw, how cute! I'm here with my granny and my daughter as well! Wait... Granny?" She looked over and sighed. "GRANNY! STOP FEEDING THE PIGEONS, YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY'VE BEEN!"

A moment later, an older woman stomped over, giving her granddaughter a light smack on the back of the head. "Show some respect, child! I didn't raise your father to raise you without a sense of respect for your elders!" She scolded in a thick British accent.

_That... that voice, _Steve thought, eyes widening. "M-Ma'am?"

The elderly woman looked over at him, at first scowling, but then in shock with her own eyes wide. "Y... You're..." She took a deep breath. "S-Steve? Steve Rogers, is that you?"

"Peggy..." Steve said breathlessly, not quite sure if this was actually real or just another dream.

Peggy Carter had aged well. Even at what had to be at least ninety years old, she was still very much a beauty, even with the wrinkles, the granny glasses, and the tightly pulled back grey hair, though Steve admitted to himself that he was looking at her with the eyes of someone looking at their first love. Still, even in her twilight years, Peggy still resembled that tough-as-nails agent from the forties, at least to Steve.

No one said anything for a moment, before Tony, who for some reason had a weird feeling in his gut, piped up. "Uh... is anybody else really confused here?"

The little girl, who had been silent most of the time and hid behind her mother's legs, raised her hand. "U-Um... I am! Great-Granny, who ith thith guy?" She asked, lisping even more than Tony.

The older woman turned to her great-grandchild. "Oh, of course! Where are my manners? Sharon, Amelia, this is Steve Rogers, or as I suppose you would know him, Captain America."

Both Sharon and Amelia's eyes widened. "W-Wait, you mean _the _Captain America?! The one that you worked with?! Granny, why didn't you tell us this earlier?!"

"Well, goodness, love, I'm ninety-three years old! You can't really expect me to remember every single detail, can you?"

While the two women argued, Amelia simply gaped in awe at the hero. Tony noticed this, and though he admitted it was a childish move, he stuck his tongue out at her, not quite sure why he did so.

After a moment, the argument ended, and Peggy turned back to Steve, smiling warmly.

"Well, then, Steve, since it's been so long," Steve flinched in guilt at that, "Would you like to take a walk with me and catch up? For old time's sake?"

Without hesitation, the super-soldier nodded, taking Tony off his shoulders and placing him gently on the ground.

"H-Hey! Stebe, what about the rest of the zoo?!"

But the blonde didn't answer him, already too engrossed in a conversation with his first love to hear the child's question. As Tony watched the pair walk away, the churning in his stomach grew, and he groaned a bit.

"Tony? Are you okay?" Natasha asked, suddenly concerned. Child-Tony may have been a total brat, but Sick-Tony was a right whiny bitch, and she did _not _want to experience Sick-Child-Tony if she could avoid it.

"My tummy hurts," he announced, walking over and tugging on Clint's pants. "Can we just go home, please?"

"But what about the monkeys? You were so excited about those!" The archer said, kneeling to look Tony in the eye.

The child fell into his arms and moaned in response. "I don't care about the monkeys anymore. I just wanna go home and take a nap." For once, he sounded his age.

Clint sighed as he picked him up. "Alright, we'll go." He looked over at the mother and daughter. "Hey, if you see Steve, can you tell him Tony didn't feel well so we went home?"

Sharon nodded, still a bit awestruck from what had just happened.

"Thanks a lot." With that, the group headed for the zoo's exit.

"... Mommy? I don't think that boy wath really Mr. Captain America'th thon."

Sharon sighed. "Neither do I, baby."

* * *

Peter swung into his open bedroom window, groaning as he peeled the mask off. In one afternoon, the teen had stopped five muggings, two robberies, another bank heist, and led the police to a drug deal. Suffice to say, the web-slinger was exhausted.

"Who'd have thought there could be so much crime occurring in the same afternoon?" Peter muttered as he fell onto his bed, feeling as though he could sleep for a thousand years and still be tired. He could feel himself dropping off, feel his mind and body slip into blissful unconsciousness...

_Knock-knock. _"Peter? Are you in there?"

The teen bolted upright in bed at the sound of Bruce's voice, then looked down at his still spider-suit clad self. _Shit!_

"U-Uh, yeah, just... give me a second!"

Quickly as possible, Peter scrambled for his backpack, opening it and pulling out the street clothes he'd stored in it while simultaneously tearing off the shirt part of his costume.

Another knock. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Y-Yeah, just... just a minute!" He yelled as he pulled on his pants.

"... Peter, are... are you doing what I think you're doing in there?" The scientist asked carefully.

The teen paused in the middle of putting on his shirt, scrunching up his face in contemplation. When he realized what Bruce thought he was doing, Peter's eyes widened and he could feel his cheeks heating up. "Oh, god, _gross_, Bruce! I'm just studying, geez! I-It's just kind of a mess in here, that's all!"

He could hear Bruce sigh in relief. "Peter, I'm no stranger to messy rooms, so I really don't mind if-"

"W-Well, I do!" Peter yelled as he kicked the spider-suit under his bed. Sighing, he walked over to the door, opening it for the scientist.

"Yes?" He asked as pleasantly as possible.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow. "Uh... just wanted to ask you what kind of pizza you wanted."

Peter could hardly hold back a breath of relief. "Oh, anything is fine with me."

Bruce smiled. "Alright. Oh, and by the way, your costume isn't all the way under your bed, _Spiderman." _

Peter's heart, stomach, and smile and dropped simultaneously. "I-I-I... I, uh, _Spiderman_? I'm sure you're mistaken, Doc."

The scientist scoffed. "Oh, cut the crap, Peter. Seriously, a spider-themed hero appears less than a week after you develop spider-powers? How gullible do you think I am?"

The teen looked down, trying to keep from hyperventilating. "... P... Please don't tell Dad. He'll ground me until I'm his age if he finds out about this!"

"And he'd have good reason to. But I'm not going to tell him."

Peter looked up, his eyes shocked and hopeful. "Wh-What!? Really? You promise?"

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Peter, I've been watching the news, and Spiderman... Spiderman is making a huge impact on people, for better or for worse. In this day and age, people need all the heroes they can get, whether they're billionaires like Tony," he put a hand on the teen's shoulder. "Or a brave, talented kid like you. Just... promise you won't do anything stupid, okay?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically. "Thanks, Bruce. I owe you one!"

"Yeah you do."

* * *

"...and that's when I realized that John had been hiding in the clothes rack the entire time!"

Steve laughed heartily at the story. Peggy had so many wonderful tales to tell from the seventy years he hadn't seen her. She had married, had children, watched them grow up, watched them marry and have kids of their own, grown old with the man she had married (his name had been Lucas), and now, her grandchildren had children.

In short, she'd lived a full life. A life without Steve, a life of her own.

He was glad about that, he realized. Steve couldn't have expected her to waste her life waiting for a man who everyone thought dead, could he? That would have been selfish and an insult to this beautiful, strong woman. No, he was glad that she'd moved on.

"I did miss you, Steve. After... you know." Peggy said suddenly. Steve saw the melancholy in her face, heard it in her voice. _If only, _it said, making Steve's heart ache in regret.

Suddenly, a familiar song began to play in the cafe where they had settled down to talk. Steve grinned, standing up and offering a hand to the elderly woman.

"Steve, just what are you doing?" She chided.

"I believe I still owe you a dance, ma'am."

Peggy stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "Oh, Steve, no. I'm... I'm too old, and it's been so long since I last danced with anyone... Besides, you said you don't know how to dance."

Steve kept grinning, pulling her out of her seat gently. "I made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

She stared for another moment, then sighed. "Alright, you silly boy. Put your hand here."

At first, Peggy guided Steve through the steps, but soon enough the blonde took the lead, gently guiding the elderly woman himself.

"_... And with the moon up above, it's wonderful... it's wonderful... so they tell me... I can't recall who said it... I know, I've never read it, I only know they tell me that love is wonderful..."_

* * *

All around him, there was gunfire. People screaming in sheer agony. Explosions.

_No... no... make it stop, make it stop!_

He heard men yelling in a language he couldn't understand. More deafening explosions. More tortured screams.

Then, a few feet away, a missile landed. He looked at it, and couldn't breathe.

_Stark Industries, _he saw in big letters on the side. Then it exploded, and Tony sat up in bed, screams drowned out by the boom of thunder outside his window.

_Just a nightmare... not real..._

He breathed erratically, willing himself not to sob like a little child. He may have looked like a four-year-old, but he was a grown-ass man, dammit, and grown-ass men don't cry over stupid little nightmares like that.

Then the sound of thunder filled the room, terrifying him, making the horror seem real again.

_Okay, screw being a grown-ass man, I'm four and I want to be comforted._

With some difficulty, the little child got out of his over-sized bed, running out into the hallway before realizing that he didn't remember where Peter's room was at the moment, sleep having clouded his mind.

_Dammit, where can I- Oh! ... Well, I don't like it, but I'm too fucking terrified to care._

Tony dashed down the hall, then slowly opened the unfamiliar bedroom's door.

"S... Stebe?" He whispered. No response.

"Stebe?" He asked again, this time in a normal voice.

He heard a snort from the bed. "Wuzzat-? T... Tony?"

Suddenly, the child felt very small. "Um..." He shrunk behind the door a bit.

Steve yawned. "What're," He yawned again. "What're you doing up? It's the middle of the night."

"... I had a nightmare." Tony admitted, flushing sheepishly. "C... Can I sleep in here, please?"

Steve's eyes opened fully, slightly taken aback by just how _young _and _vulnerable _Tony sounded. He was sure that Tony had nightmares often enough, they all probably did with how screwed up their lives were, but now that Tony was so young... even if he still mostly had his adult mind, he couldn't handle nightmares like that anymore.

"S... Stebe?" The boy asked quietly, interrupting Steve's train of thought.

The super-soldier sighed, then gestured for him to come in. "Alright, but just for tonight, okay?"

Tony nodded and ran into the room, climbing onto the bed and mumbling a quiet, "Thank you" before lying down.

Steve sighed, turning onto his back. Before long, however, he felt a tiny hand grip his shirt.

"Tony-" Steve started to scold the child, but then he saw his face. Tony looked... afraid, to say the least. Even though Tony had the personality and intelligence he had as an adult, physically he was only a child, and Steve was sure that his mind-set might be a little bit like a child's, which would explain the lisp and the increased whining.

Steve hesitated, then wrapped an arm around the sleepy boy. To Steve's continued surprise, Tony sighed and snuggled close to his chest.

"Night, Stebie." Tony muttered sleepily.

"... Goodnight, Tony."

**A/N: I made Tony wear the hat because one, ADORBS 3, and two, it would be hilarious to see him in that silly frog hat. **

**Also, the song that Peggy and Steve danced to is called 'They Say it's Wonderful'.**


	5. Scales

**A/N: Yes, I know I'm late with this one. School started up again, and I had to take an SAT, and a bunch of other crap happened. Trust me, I'd rather have been writing. **

**So I think it might be obvious by this point, but I ship Stony like it's my fucking job (just read **_**Good Morning **_**if you want an example. Or, hell, look at my blog on Tumblr!). Thus, there shall be Stony in this fic. All who do not like Stony, please, keep it to yourself. Not trying to be rude, but I'm not too keen on getting bashed on a ship I really like. **

**If you do ship Stony, well... hi there. I hope you're liking the story so far.**

**(Actually, even if you don't ship it, I hope that).**

When Tony woke up, the first thing that he noticed was that he was much taller than he had been when he'd fallen asleep. Whereas his entire body had fit relatively close to the pillow the previous night, his feet were now somewhere in the middle of the bed, his longer legs wrapped haphazardly in the sheets like the present Peter had tried to wrap himself their first Christmas together as a family (an instance that Tony had placed firmly in his 'Top Ten Most Adorable Things My Son has Ever Done' list).

The second thing that Tony noticed that he was evidently _not _in his own bed, mostly because the sheets were some sort of cotton rather than the soft silk that his own bed had, and also because _Steve was asleep next to him. _It was at this point remembered that he'd had a nightmare the previous night, and the combined factors of having just woken up and the sheer terror he'd felt had made him temporarily forget where his son's room was. Therefore, he'd ran to the only room he could remember the location of, which just so happened to be Steve's.

The third thing that he noticed was that Steve's sleeping face was very cute. Tony tried not to think about that one too much and shoved it into the recesses of his mind.

The last thing he noticed was that he was completely, utterly, and rather ironically _stark naked._

Out of all of these realizations, it was the last one that caused Tony to shriek and jump (well, hurl himself) off the bed, taking the sheet that was still tangled up in his legs with him as he fell onto the floor.

Steve woke with a start, rather confused at what the other was yelling about. What he saw when he looked over the bed surprised him even more than Tony's behavior last night. He had been expecting to see a young child on the floor.

Instead, there was what looked to be a fourteen-year-old boy in his place, covered with a white sheet that partially masked the glow of the arc reactor in his chest, his dark-brown hair a mess and his familiar chocolate-colored eyes were wide in shock.

"... Tony?" Steve asked in a hushed voice, more than a little baffled himself.

"Steve, I have no idea how this-" He paused and flushed when he heard his voice crack. "What the... is... is that my _voice? _Is," Tony coughed, attempting to clear his throat. "Is that _my _voice?"

He looked up again, but Steve was gone from the bed. "Steve? Where did you-?" His question was interrupted abruptly when the soldier threw something at him, something blue and fuzzy. Upon further inspection, the now-teenager found it to be a bathrobe. "Okay, one, why did you throw a bathrobe at me, and two, where did you even _get_ a bathrobe?"

Steve let out a low, quiet chuckle, walking over to the bed and picking up what was left of the tinier Tony's pajamas. "Well, first of all, I'm pretty sure that your little kid clothes aren't exactly the right size with your growth spurt, and none of my clothes will fit you, and as for the second thing, the robe was part of the stuff SHIELD gave me when I..." Steve cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly.

Tony motioned for him to keep going. "When you... what? Ran out in the middle of Times Square? Destroyed a punching bag? Learned how to operate a cell phone? Wait, can you even do that yet-?"

"When I woke up."

"O-Oh." Tony suddenly felt slightly guilty for some reason. Maybe Peter was right, maybe he _did _need to work on his sensitivity.

There was an awkward, silent tension hanging in the room after that. Neither party had any idea what to say to defuse the situation, but neither wanted to make it any worse, either, so an unknown amount of time managed to pass by before Tony spoke up.

"Um, Steve? If... if it's not too much trouble, could you maybe..." He gestured to the door, feeling even more ill at ease than before, as well as being all too aware of his heart pounding in his chest and the burning sensation in his cheeks. Suddenly, for the first time in god-knows how long, the genius felt self-conscious to an overwhelming degree, part of him wanting to disappear into nothingness, and part of him just wanting to scream his head off in mortification.

"O-Oh, uh, sure." Steve replied clumsily, moving past the teen and opening the door. "I-I'll just... yeah." He finished lamely, closing the door behind him.

Tony sighed, shedding the sheet and pulling on the robe. As he had thought before, it was way too huge for his short, scrawny frame. He felt like a toddler who had put on his father's shoes; small and out of place.

The robe itself was... nice, Tony admitted begrudgingly. It was warm, and rather downy, though not as much as his own silk robe that was buried somewhere in his mess of a closet. The blue fabric smelled nice, as well; it smelt a little like soap, but like something else as well, something sweet and old-fashioned.

_Steve. _

Yes, that was it. The robe smelt undeniably like the super-soldier, that lovable, dorky, old-fashioned fool. Handsome, too; had Tony never noticed that before? He could see why women always were throwing themselves at Steve; with those bright, beautiful, _impossibly _baby-blue eyes, that strong, firm jaw, that silly, winning grin, and god, _that body-_

_Whoa there, cowboy._

What the _hell _was he thinking?! This was _Steve, _for god's sake! This was the same man who turned as red as a cherry if the word _sex _was even mentioned, who couldn't even work the goddamn microwave (not because the microwave didn't like him; the machine tried to help Steve, though it soon realized that its efforts were in vain), who made just the most _adorable _face whenever he got a reference-

_NO. Bad teenage thoughts and hormones, bad!_ _Now go sit in the corner and think about your life._

Tony groaned quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Great. First he had to deal with being a quarter of his normal size, now he had to redo puberty.

And an apparent sort-of-crush on one Steve Rogers. Whoop-dee-frickin'-doo.

* * *

"Well, I'm stumped." Bruce had announced upon seeing Tony shuffle into the kitchen wearing a more-than-slightly-too-big Metallica t-shirt and the tightest pair of skinny jeans he owned (which were still a size too large on his bony ass).

"I am confused. Was not the Man of Iron but a child yesterday?"

"Yes. Yes he was. And now he's apparently a teenager. What the hell, Tony?"

Tony shrugged, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a can of soda. "If I had any clue as to why I've aged about ten years in one night, I'd tell ya. But I don't, so I can't." At that, he popped open the tab and downed at least half the can in one swig.

"Tony, isn't it a bit too early to be drinking soda?"

"Look at all the fucks I give, Barton." Tony stated before drinking the rest of the soda and tossing the empty can into the trash.

Just then, Peter ran into the room, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his hair still mussed from sleep. "Late late late! Why didn't anyone wake me up, my internship starts today, craaaap!"

"Morning to you too, Peter." Tony greeted, moving away from the fridge as Peter grabbed an apple.

"Yeah, hi, Dad- Wait, what?" Peter stared as his now-teenage father for a moment before shaking his head. "You know what, forget it for now, I don't have time! I'm already late, I'll see you later, love you, bye!" With that, the teen shot out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell, running into the elevator.

"... Okay, Tony? You mind explaining what just happened?" Bruce asked what everyone was wondering.

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Peter got an internship with some big-name biologist."

"Oh, really? Who?"

Tony pinched his chin, trying to recall the guy's name. "Uh, let me think... Connors, I think. Dr. Curt Connors."

"Oh, really? That's- Wait, _Dr. Connors?! _Tony, Connors is the head of the Oscorp Science Department!"

"WHAT?! Oh, that little... he knows how I feel about that rat Norman!"

"Well, maybe that's why he didn't tell you," Natasha remarked. "If this Dr. Connors is such a big deal, Peter would probably prefer that you didn't jeopardize this opportunity by, you know, being your usual pleasant self."

"Fuck you, Natasha. Oh, wait, that's Clint's job."

The aforementioned archer spit out his coffee at that remark, both he and Natasha turning the exact same shade of red. "Wh- M-My job is to...? No, no, our relationship is purely professional!"

Tony gave them a look that said 'Really? You _do_ know that you're not fooling anybody, right?', Bruce rolled his eyes, and Thor laughed thunderously.

"Oh, I see! Lady Natasha and He who sees with the eyes of a Hawk believe that we cannot hear them when they are-"

"THOR!" Bruce hissed. The god turned to the scientist in confusion. "_Not in front of Tony!"_

The teen stared at him incredulously. "First of all, fuck you, Banner! Second, I'm only _physically _a teenager, not mentally. I'm pretty sure I've gotten more action than Legolas over here."

"And I'm sure you're proud of that. And also that you should be tested."

"Why should Tony get tested?" Steve asked as he entered the kitchen. There was a towel wrapped around his neck, and his hair was still wet from his shower. A single drop of water fell onto the super-soldier's face, running down his cheek and that perfect neck-

_NOPE NOPE NOPE._

Tony coughed, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt as he turned away from Steve. "Nothing, Cap. Bruce thinks he's being funny, _which he's not."_

"I'm not trying to be funny. Seriously, when was the last time you got tested for-?"

"It hasn't been necessary! Why are we even talking about this, we're supposed to be talking about Birdbrain and Natasha's sex life and the fact that we know about it!"

At this, Steve turned a very amusing shade of red. "Oh, um, w-we're talking about that? B-Because I definitely can't hear them when they... uh..."

He was such a terrible liar that Tony almost found it endearing. "Well, you two? Even _Steve _knows, so why don't you just come- Where the hell are they?"

"Oh, the Lady Natasha departed for the market moments ago, and He who sees with the Eyes of a Hawk has gone to 'Clint-Town'."

Tony groaned. "Oh for the love of- BARTON GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY VENTS!"

Clint's muffled 'Go fuck yourself!' reverberated from above them.

Steve glanced at the chore chart. "Wait, it says its my week to go get groceries. Why did Natasha go?"

* * *

Natasha Romanov had been in more life-or-death situations than she could care to remember before. She had stared down dictators, madmen, Clint under mind control, and even a freaking demigod. The spy knew danger better than almost anyone she knew.

But this? This was more fucking terrifying than any power-crazed demigod could ever be.

_Okay, Romanov, you're a goddamn grown-ass woman. Just get the test, pay the cashier, and go. _

With another deep breath, the assassin reached out and grabbed the rectangular box, ignoring the feeling in her stomach that was either nerves or making the point of buying this thing moot. She was nearly paralyzed with fear; Natasha didn't know how she was going to deal with it if this thing came back with the answer she dreaded. What would she do? How would Clint react to this?

Neither of them were ready to even _think _about being parents.

But she had to push that thought to the back of her mind. She had what she came for; now she just had to pay for it and get the fuck out of-

"Natasha?"

_Fuuuuuuuck. _"P-Pepper!" Natasha forced a grin as she hid the pregnancy test behind her back. "What... What are you doing here?"

The redhead arched an elegant brow in suspicion. "I'm grocery shopping. Speaking of which, what are _you _doing here? I thought it was Steve's week to do the shopping."

"Er, well, it is, but I-I just really needed to get one thing."

"Oh, really? What did you need?"

_Fuckshitdammit. _"Uh... Y-Yogurt! B-But they don't have any, so I'm going to look somewhere else."

The eyebrow rose higher. "They don't have any yogurt... at a _supermarket_?"

_I'm beginning to feel like I'm on trial here. _"Er... they don't have the kind I like?" The assassin attempted to move past Pepper. "Look, I'm kind of in a hurry, so not to be rude but- AH!"

That last part came when a little boy ran straight into Natasha's legs, throwing her off balance and making her drop the test.

"Trent! Oh, ma'am, I'm very sorry about this!" A woman who was probably the boy's mother apologized, grabbing the little boy's arm. "Say sorry to the nice lady, Trent."

"Sorry." The boy mumbled sheepishly.

Natasha sighed. "Oh, it's fine, no harm done." She wasn't going back for the test; that would be far too conspicuous. She would just have to pick up a new one at the convenience store near the tower. "Anyway, I'll see you later, Pepper." Natasha waved as she started to walk away.

She didn't get very far. "Hey, lady! You dropped this!" The boy yelled, holding up the box. Natasha froze and turned around slowly to face an incredulous Pepper.

"N-Natasha? You're not... are you?!"

Natasha laughed nervously._ ебать!_

* * *

Peter was completely out of breath by the time he reached the elevator in the Oscorp lobby. Truthfully, it would have been far more practical to just web-sling over, but really, what reason did Spiderman have to swing over to the Oscorp building? It wasn't like anything illegal occurred there.

Well, at least nothing that anyone could find definitive evidence of, anyway. But that wasn't important right now. The teen was already embarrassingly late for the first day of his official internship; he didn't have time to get sidetracked.

"Dr. Connors, I'm so sorry that I'm-" Peter's apology was swiftly cut off by a yelp as he nearly slipped on something upon entering the lab. After regaining his balance, the brunet looked down at the floor inquisitively, then crouched down and examined the clutter of papers on the floor, each covered with formulas and notes and sketches. Upon further inspection, Peter recognized them as the formula that he and Connors had worked on prior to the doctor giving Peter an official internship.

"What on earth...?" Peter wondered aloud, puzzled. Dr. Connors had seemed so fixated on perfecting the formula; why would he leave it all over the floor where it could get stepped on or thrown away by a janitor? Why would he be so careless?

And what the hell was that hissing sound?

Peter froze, suddenly aware of another presence in the room. Very slowly, the teen turned around until he came face to face with a scaly being perched on one of the counters.

_Holy shit, its a miniature Godzilla._

The beast stared back at him, its sulfur-colored eyes narrowed at the smaller being as if Peter was a fly buzzing around its head irritatingly. Without warning, the lizard monster growled and leapt at Peter, claws first. The teen just barely had time to move out of the way and shoot a line of web at the monster, confusing it long enough for Peter to run and grab the fire extinguisher and empty its contents onto the beast. When the container was empty and the monster was still roaring at him whilst covered in the white substance, Peter threw the container at its head, which he had hoped would knock it unconcious, but only served to make the monster angrier. In a flash, the lizard-thing had pinned Peter to the wall, its teeth inches from his throat, and it suddenly dawned on the teen that this was it, he was really going to die, there was no way he was getting out of this alive-

"_GRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"_

At the very last minute, the beast's eyes widened, causing it to wince in pain. It moved away from Peter's throat, opting to unleash a deafening roar in the teen's face and then leap across the room, jumping out an open window.

"Wait!" Peter cried, rushing over to the window. He was expecting to see the monster falling down the seventeen floors between the lab and the floor, but to his surprise the lizard (that was a good name for it, he should remember it) was gone, having seemingly disappeared into thin air.

Peter ran a hand through his hair tiredly, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Why hadn't the creature killed him? Why was it at Oscorp? And where the _hell _was Dr. Connors?

"_This is a ringtooooone! So pick up the phoooooone!"_

Peter jumped at the sudden break in the silence, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. "H-Hello?"

"_Peter? What's wrong? You sound out of breath."_

"I-It's a long story, I'd rather not get into it."

"_Well, okay then. Anyway, I was just calling to make sure that we're still on for dinner tonight."_

Peter squinted in confusion. "Dinner?" He asked, trying to remember if they had a date.

"_Don't tell me you forgot that you were coming over to meet my parents tonight!"_

_Oh, shit. _"N-No, of course not! In fact, I'm on my way over right now!"

"_What? But you just said-"_

"Sorry, gotta go, see you soon!" He cut her off, ending the call abruptly and running toward the elevator. As soon as he got out of the elevator, he bolted out of the lobby and started in the direction of the Stacys apartment building.

"Can't be late, good boyfriends aren't late when they meet their girlfriend's parents!"

After a moment, he turned back around and ran in the other direction.

"Good boyfriends also bring flowers."

* * *

_Well that couldn't have gone any worse._

Peter leaned up against the railing, looking over at his girlfriend, who was currently giving him the silent treatment and glaring out at the cityscape.

Admittedly, it _was_ kind of his fault. Everything had been going so well at first. The dinner was delicious, Gwen's brothers had given their approval of him, her mother seemed to be impressed with his internship (he had decided against sharing his near-death experience), even Captain Stacy seemed to be tolerating him.

And then the topic of Spiderman came up.

Really, the captain started it. _He_ was the one who had scoffed and called the webslinger a "punk in a silly costume" after all. Peter had simply been defending himself (technically)!

Though he probably did go too far when he questioned the NYPD's competence in keeping the peace.

After yelling at each other for another five minutes, Gwen and her mother had intervened, the former taking her boyfriend out to the roof to get some air, and the latter shutting her husband up with a forceful "George, dear, could you help me slice the cake?" that had made Peter wonder if the woman had at one point been a SHIELD agent.

"I really fucked up in there, huh?" He asked, hoping that the profanity would at least force a disapproving "Language" from his girlfriend. But the blonde remained silent, refusing to even glance his way for a split-second.

"Oh, come on, Gwen, I said I was sorry! What, do you want me to bake you a cake?"

No response.

"I... I hope that doesn't mean yes, because I don't think the oven particularly likes me and I don't even know how to bake anyway and Gwen please talk to me I'm so sorry I insulted your father-"

"I'm not mad about that, Peter."

The teen recoiled a bit at the sound of her voice. There was a bitter sting to her words, and a little bit of pain to them as well. "Oh... then, what's with the silent treatment?"

The blonde sighed, turning to him. "Peter, are we okay?"

The brunet blinked in surprise at the question. "What? Of course we're okay, we're great! Why would you ask me that?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you've been so distant lately! You've been acting secretive, and I can't tell if something's wrong with you, or if you've just lost interest in this relationship!" She shouted, getting in his face.

"Gwen, no, that's not it at all! I lo-" He bit his lip, cutting himself off before he could say something he'd regret. "...I'm crazy about you, I've been crazy about you since we met, and I'd never do anything to mess that up!"

"Then why won't you confide in me?! Is it so unrealistic to expect that you won't keep things from me?!"

"No, of course not, I just-!"

"You just what? Peter, I want the truth. Are you keeping something from me?"

"I..." Peter bit his lip, unable to look away from her green eyed gaze. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to so badly, but... could he really run the risk of her getting hurt because of him?

At her boyfriend's silence, Gwen steeled her gaze and turned away. "Fine, then. Don't tell me. You know where the door is." The blonde started for the entrance to her apartment, willing herself not to cry, not to turn around and run to him.

"Gwen, wait..." Peter tried, but she just kept moving farther and farther away.

_No... No, don't let her walk away!_

Without thinking, the brunet shot out a line of web, wrapping Gwen in the substance and snapping his wrist to pull her back to him. She gasped in shock.

"Peter, what-?!"

The teen quickly cut her off, crushing his lips to hers and catching her off guard. Gwen's first thought was to pull away, to slap him silly and tell him to get out, but that thought was quickly replaced by another notion, one that told her to hold on to Peter, to never let him go, and she tentatively allowed herself to press back against him, melting into the kiss. After a few more seconds, Peter pulled away, looking into her eyes once more.

"... You're Spiderman." Gwen said dreamily, as if she wasn't completely convinced that it was true.

"... Yeah."

"... You moron." She stated, though her tone implied she didn't mean it, as did the fact that she pulled her boyfriend back into another kiss right after, claiming his lips with her own tenderly, him doing the same. The feeling of never wanting to let go, wanting to stay in this moment forever, was washing over them both, making the world around them melt away and there was only them, alone in this-

"Gwen, your father wanted me to tell you that- Oh."

The couple immediately broke the kiss and separated, both flushing darkly as they looked over at Mrs. Stacy. "Y-Yeah, Mom?"

Her mother glanced away awkwardly. "Er... your father just left, there's been an incident on the Brooklyn bridge. Some whackjob dressed up like a giant lizard-creature is disrupting traffic or something. Just... thought you might like to know." With that, she started to walk away, but then looked back at them. "I'm leaving the door open, so don't even think about fooling around up here!"

"M-MOM!" Gwen shouted, her face red as a cherry. She turned back to Peter, only to find him stripping. "PETER SHE WAS KIDDING!"

Her boyfriend turned to her, revealing his costume under his clothes.

"Oh... wait, you wear the suit under your clothes?"

"Well it's not like I have a suit of armor that folds up into a briefcase!"

"Okay, I guess that makes- Waaaait, why are you even changing into superhero mode anyway!"

"You remember how I was out of breath when you called earlier?" Peter asked as he shimmied out of his jeans.

"Yeah, why?"

The brunet pulled the mask over his head. "A lizard-man-thing almost ripped my throat out literally a minute before you called. And I don't know about you, but I honestly doubt that there's more than one mini-Godzilla running around New York."

With that, the webslinger ran towards the railing leaping over and shooting a line to the nearest building.

"You complete me!" He called as he swung away.

Gwen stared in shock for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"Ohhh I'm in trouble."

* * *

"Oh, god..."

Pepper looked over at Natasha sympathetically. "Natasha, it's not that bad, really-"

"Don't, Pepper. Just... don't try to comfort me, okay? This is terrible and I don't want you to bullshit me."

Pepper clenched and unclenched her jaw. "Don't bullshit me, either. The Natasha Romanov I know can stare down psychopaths and murders like it was nothing, and you're acting like that," She said, pointing to the little readout that said 'PREGNANT' very clearly, "is the end of the world!"

"That's different! I was trained for years and years on how to keep my cool in those situations!" She looked down at her stomach. "I have no damn clue on how to be a mother. No one's ever trained me for that."

"There isn't any training for this. No one starts out a perfect parent, and honestly most people never become perfect parents. Maybe you're not qualified to be a mom, but you aren't the first person ever to become one, and a lot of them were even less qualified than you."

Natasha didn't respond at first. "... What about Clint?"

"What about him?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know, apparently it's obvious."

"... So, he's the father, then."

"Well, duh. Who else would it be, Tony?"

When Pepper didn't react, Natasha looked up at her, then recoiled when she saw the redhead's shocked expression. "Oh my god I was kidding!"

"O-Oh, I know!" She said, waving her hands. "I-I was just surprise that you didn't say someone else! I mean, I know how close you and Clint are, and I'm fairly sure Tony's into Steve, anyway-!"

The assassin snorted. "Try 'madly in love with but too stubborn to admit it' and you're close."

Pepper gave her a perplexed look. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Did I tell you he turned into a teen today? You should have seen the look on his face when Steve came out of the shower. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets!"

Pepper laughed at that, the assassin laughing along with her.

'_This is a ringtoooone! So pick up the phoooone!'_

The pair's laughter abruptly died down, Pepper staring at Natasha as she got her phone out.

"Clint picked my ringtone." Natasha explained sheepishly as she hit answer. "Hello?"

"_Natasha! Get down to the Brooklyn bridge, now! Some nutjob dressed as a giant lizard-man-thing is stomping around and- TONY LOOK OUT- crap, the lizard thing just tossed a car off a bridge- Oh, hey, it's Spiderman, hey do you think Director Fury would mind if I asked him to join the Avengers-?"_

"Clint! Focus!" Natasha interrupted. "What the fuck's going on over there? Why is Tony with you? Isn't he like, fourteen or something?!"

"_He can still work the suit!" _There was a crash on the other line. "... _Sort of."_

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Clint," She started in her 'fuck with me and I will kill you with my pinky toe' voice, "What happened?"

"..._Tony tried to tackle the lizard thing and ended up crashing through a bunch of a cars."_

"WHAT?!"

"_They were all empty, don't worry-!"_

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME ANY LESS WORRIED, CLINT! Listen, you need to get him out of there. If Fury finds out about Tony, then we'll have to tell him about Loki, and then he'll call us all a bunch of maladroit motherfuckers and fire a bunch of interns, and this time Coulson won't be around to remind him that he can't kill us!"

"_Would you stop worrying so much? We'll be fine! Tony will be fine! Why do you care, anyway? It's not like you're his mom! You're not anyone's mom!"_

The assassin hesitated. "A-About that... Clint, I'm-"

There was an indistinguishable shout on the other side, followed by Clint yelling "_Motherfu- Tasha, I'm sorry, but I can't talk right now! Just hurry up and get over here!" _

With that, the archer hung up, leaving Natasha to say "...pregnant..." to absolutely no one.

* * *

"Thank you so much!"

Peter rubbed his head sheepishly at the woman's gratitude, watching her and her husband embrace their child. "You're very welcome, ma'am. Um... now might be a good time for you to flee, so if you'll just follow the man with the arrows-"

"Oh, right. Bless you, Spiderman!"

The teen watched as the family walked away, feeling his chest swell with pride. This was definitely his favorite part of being a hero; he didn't always get a thank you, but that only made the times when he did that much better.

That lasted for about five seconds before a shriek pierced the air.

"NATASHA!" Clint screamed.

In a split second, the Lizard had grabbed Natasha and, without giving her the chance to get free and more likely than not punch it (him?) in the face, tossed her over the side of the bridge.

Peter sprang into action, leaping over the railing and shooting both of his webslingers at once; one to attach him to the bridge, and one to catch Natasha before she fell to her death. He felt the sticky webbing latch onto the railing as the other wrapped around the assassin, and with a sharp tug the brunet pulled her into his arms.

"It's all right ma'am, I've got you!"

Natasha stared at him incredulously. Peter grinned beneath his mask, cherishing the feeling of having rendered the witty woman speechless.

_I bet she's trying to think of a way to thank me right now-_

"Peter?"

_Oh, shit._

"Wha- How did you-?!" Peter coughed, clearing his throat. "Ah, no, ma'am," he said, making his voice deeper. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Nice try, kiddo."

The brunet swallowed nervously. "Please don't tell Dad."

"Promise me you won't drop me and we have a deal. Now pull me up, I think Clint might be having a nervous breakdown."

Wordlessly, the webslinger followed her orders, using the hand that wasn't holding the assassin to pull on the line like a bungee cord, which immediately brought them back up. Once she was safely on her feet, Natasha pulled the remnants of the webbing off of her body, succeeding in getting most of it off her torso but a lot of it on her hands.

"Ick. What's _in _this stuff? No, wait, I don't want to know."

Peter looked around the bridge. There were several cars on fire, some straggling civilians, several superheroes, but a distinct lack of giant lizard-men, archers, and teens in red and gold armour.

"Where's the Lizard?"

"It ran away after it tossed Natasha off a bridge. Clint went after it, and Tony went after him so he wouldn't get 'turned into Clint suet', as he said." Steve explained.

"... I don't think the thing has any sort of fire-controlling capabilities."

"Well, neither do I, but-"

"LET ME GO, FUCKASS!"

The conversation ended abruptly when Clint's hollering became audible. Tony had a tight grip on the archer, who was still struggling against him in an attempt to get free.

"Cut it out, Birdbrain! Nat's fine, Spiderman went after her, didn't you see-?"

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN SHIT! FOR ALL I KNOW, THAT CREATURE KILLED HER!"

"Well it'll kill _you_ if you go after it!" Tony snapped as he landed on the ground.

"I DON'T CARE!"

Natasha sighed, placing her hand over her face as she stepped forward. "Clint, I'm fine."

"NOT NOW TASHA!"

Peter frowned. "Um, shouldn't we-?"

The assassin held up a hand to stop him. "Give him a minute."

Sure enough, the archer froze, turning around to face his partner with a shocked look on his face. "... N... Natasha?"

The assassin smirked. "See? Perfectly fine, so it's futile to go after-"

The archer didn't give her time to finish her patronizing, dashing over to her and cutting her off with his lips as he kissed her deeply, claiming her lips desperately as if to say_ thank god, you're alive, don't ever leave me, I need you, I love you! _

Natasha tried to push him away, they were in public, people could see them, this could get back to Fury and they could get in trouble and _Clint you infuriatingly sexy bastard cut it out-_

But then Clint swiped his tongue over her bottom lip and placed his hand over the small of her back, and suddenly Natasha found that she could care less about Fury or SHIELD or the fact that they were in public and everyone was staring at them because Clint was here, Clint was holding her, Clint loved her and needed her and she loved him and needed him, and fuck everything she was going to have his child-

Her eyes opened wide. Shit, she'd almost forgotten about that little fact! Though everything in her told her not to, she put her hands on his chest and pushed off, breaking the kiss.

"Clint," She started, breathing heavily, "I have to tell you some-"

"We should get married."

Natasha blinked and recoiled in surprise. "What."

Clint grinned sheepishly. "I... Let's get married, Tasha. I know you said that you didn't want to get married, hell, neither did I until just a minute ago, but I can honestly say that I never want to be with anyone else-"

"Clint, I-" She tried.

"You don't have to say yes! I'll propose properly later, you know with a ring and all that, but..."

"Clint," She tried again, but he just kept babbling incessantly like an idiot. This wasn't working, god, she just needed him to shut up for just a second, couldn't he tell that this was important?!

"BARTON I'M PREGNANT!" She yelled, finally shutting the archer up.

This time, it was Clint's turn to recoil. "... What."

"I'm pregnant, Clint. I'm going to have a baby."

"... Mine?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "No, Coulson's. Of course it's yours, moron. You're going to be a father."

Clint turned away, putting a hand on his forehead. "... Wow, I... I uh..."

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah, fine, I just need to sit..." He trailed off as he collapsed to the ground, having gone unconcious from the shock.

"... That actually went a lot better than I thought it would."

"... Okay, two things. One, what the FUCK just happened?" Tony asked, sounding incredulous from beneath the armour.

"Oh, Clint just asked me to marry him and passed out when I told him I'm pregnant. Also, we're both probably fired." Natasha replied nonchalantly. "Somebody want to get him off the ground?"

Wordlessly, Steve picked the archer up and slung him over his shoulder. "I got him."

"Thanks."

"Second thing: Where the hell did Spiderman go?"

* * *

Peter sighed, laying down on his bed in his pajamas. He was exhausted, more so than usual. It wasn't everyday that you fought Godzilla Jr. twice. Nor was it everyday that two people found out that you were a web-slinging superhero.

"I should really be more careful about that..." Peter said to no one in particular. Just then, he heard the door to the apartment open, then a bunch of muted shouts and groans. Curious, the teen got out of bed, walking over to the living room.

"Uh, Dad? Why is Clint unconcious on the couch."

"Nat's pregnant." Tony replied, as if that explained everything. Which it did, of course.

"... Man, I miss all the weird stuff around here!"

* * *

Clint opened his eyes lazily, his vision blurry for a moment before refocusing. The first thing he noticed that he was on the couch at the tower, and he had no idea how he got there, but then he saw Natasha smiling at him and decided he really didn't care how he got back to the tower.

"Hey," He said, reaching over and pushing a wayward red lock out of her eyes.

"Hey," She replied, leaning over and kissing his nose lightly. They were small gestures, but the affection they showed said more than they could express with words alone.

"So... a baby, huh?" Clint asked, eyeing her stomach.

She smiled once more. "Yes."

"... That's great." He said sincerely. His hand brushed over hers. "Hey," He repeated, looking into her eyes seriously, "Natasha Romanov, will you marry me?"

Another smile. Natasha leaned over, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Clint Barton, I'll marry you."

"... We're definitely fired." He stated as he climbed onto the couch with him.

"Obviously." She quipped, curling into him.

* * *

"They're not fired, are they?"

"Obviously." Fury retorted. "They may be morons, but damned if they're not the best agents we've got."

"Ahem?"

"Besides you, of course. Which reminds me, when do you want to tell them?"

"That depends. When are you going to tell them that you've known all along?"

"I was thinking when the preacher says 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' would be a good time."

"Then I'll do the same."

"What? Do you _want _them to kill me?"

The other didn't answer.

"Oh, come on. You can't still be mad about that!"

"Those cards were vintage, sir. _Vintage. _Do you know how long it took me to find some in mint condition?!"

"Coulson, I think you and I need to have a talk about priorities..."

**A/N: Well this got really long quickly! **

**(I feel like there's a that's what she said joke in there somewhere...)**

**And yay, Coulson's back! **

**So! That's all for now! Off I go on a three-day college tour! **

**Remember to review!**


	6. Coulson Lives

**A/N: I have yet to see Iron Man 3, but from the gifs I've seen on tumblr, the way Tony interacts with that kid is sort of kind of exactly how I imagined him interacting with kid Peter.**

Peter had never been close with Agent Phil Coulson. He'd known of the man, of course, and he'd met him a few times, like when Obadiah tried to kill his father (he'd offered Coulson Happy's job. Coulson respectfully declined the offer), or when his dad had nearly died from Palladium poisoning (that meeting had consisted of 'what the hell is going on with my dad?' and 'that's what I'd like to know'), and right before Loki's attack ('Peter' 'Agent Coulson'), but they weren't really friends by any definition of the word. In fact, he hadn't actually known that his name was Phil until the funeral.

It had kind of sucked that he hadn't gotten to know the man before he died. However, he'd accepted that, and moved on with his life.

So, when Peter walked into the kitchen on Monday morning, he was reasonably dumbfounded to find Coulson sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, reading a newspaper, and just generally being extremely not-at-all-dead.

"Good morning, Peter." The agent greeted, not looking up from his paper. The teen stared at him, his shock preventing him from doing anything more than gawk like a codfish.

Coulson sighed. "Your father is in his lab, I believe," he said as he glanced up briefly.

Peter nodded, turning and walking (well, shuffling) over to the elevator and getting in.

The agent sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned back to his newspaper. "Teenagers."

* * *

"_... Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the ra-di-oooo! Don't you remember? We built this city, we built this city on rock and roooolll!"_

Tony crooned along with the lyrics as he moved about his workstation, oblivious to everything around him as he danced to the beat. Music always seemed to help him work, and yes, it might have been a terrible song, but he'd loved it when it was first released (though admittedly fifteen-year-old him was a bit of an idiot), and he'd been feeling nostalgic.

"_We built this city, we built this city on rock and roll! Built this city, we built this city on rock and-!"_

"Dad?"

Tony jumped in surprise, turning to face Peter with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"... H... How long have you been standing there?"

Peter grinned evilly at him. "Starship? Really, Dad?"

Tony crossed his arms and huffed indignantly. "Oh, like you're one to talk."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I seem to remember catching a certain thirteen-year-old grooving to the sound of Bon Jovi while doing the dishes."

Peter flushed at the embarrassing memory. "H-Hey, Bon Jovi rocks occasionally!"

The pair continued to glare at each other for at least another minute, at least until Tony remembered that having a staring contest with Peter was a futile effort (seriously, it was like the kid had some sort of perpetual staring superpower or something!), and thus decided to try and make his son laugh instead. While Peter continued to glower, Tony crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

The light brown eyes continued to bore into him.

Tony puffed out his cheeks a bit, moving his tongue from side to side.

A snicker and the barest trace of a stubborn grin, but the eyes still sent daggers his way. Time for drastic measures. Lolling his head back, Tony let his jaw go slack as he stuck out his arms, groaning in a manner similar to a zombie from an old b-movie. Peter snorted, which turned into a low chortle, which finally evolved into an uncontrollable bout of guffawing, shaking shoulders and sides included. His laughter was contagious, and soon enough Tony was giggling along with him.

"T-Truce?" Peter asked as he wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. Tony nodded as he leaned on the table for support, still laughing too hard to form actual words. Peter started to laugh along with him again, his sides starting to hurt from it all.

After a few more minutes of chuckling, the pair finally calmed down.

"So, what are you working on, anyway?"

Tony grinned as he always did whenever someone took interest in his work (a side effect of one Howard Stark's A+ parenting), walking over to his cluttered work station. "Just a couple new armors. This one," he said as he picked up a tiny pale-blue hexagon with a white star in the center, "is for Rhodey."

Peter looked down at the hexagon, then at his dad, a confused look on his face. "Dad, I hate to tell you this, but Rhodey isn't a smurf. That's not gonna fit him."

Tony grinned, putting the shape in his other hand and turning his arm over, placing the hexagon on it carefully. "Just watch," he said, pressing down on the star. To Peter's surprise, the shape lit up, whirring as it expanded into armor and covered Tony's entire arm in less than a minute.

"Whoa!"

"I know, right?! Expanding armor! Compact for travel, but easily activated in case some dipshit decides to try and take over the world! Already finished the one for me!"

Peter stared at the armor, amazed. "How did you even come up with this?!"

Tony grinned even wider as he tapped his head with his non-armored hand. "I've been remembering some old ideas." Tony pressed the star again, causing the armor to shrink back into a hexagon.

"So, why'd you come down here, anyway?" Tony asked as he put the shape back on the table. Peter's eyes widened as he remembered the reason he came to get his father in the first place. Frantically, he grabbed his dad's arm and started pulling him up the stairs and towards the elevator.

"Right! Come on, you have _got _to see this!"

"B-But... but the armor..." Tony whimpered, looking at his workstation wistfully.

"Later! Trust me, this is much more important than that!"

"But I wanna work on the thing!"

* * *

By the time the elevator ride was over, Peter was about ready to put himself in a coma.

Or his father in a coma. Really, he didn't care who ended up in a coma so long as the whining ceased.

"Why can't you tell me what is so damn important that you had to pull me away from the armor?!" He had to have asked at least twenty times during the five-minute elevator ride, the longest five minutes of Peter's life so far. When the doors finally pinged, signaling that they had reached their destination, the brunet nearly wept with joy. Grabbing his dad's arm once more, the teen dragged Tony into the kitchen.

"That. That is what is so damn important that I had to pull you away from the armor." Peter stated as he pointed at Coulson, who was still reading the same newspaper he had been reading when Peter left.

Coulson looked up. "Good morning, Mr. Stark. You're looking young today."

For once in his life, Tony had no witty comeback to offer. He simply gaped in shock at the agent for what felt like hours, only snapping out of his trance when Peter elbowed him in the side.

"C... Coulson?"

"That's my name, yes."

Tony gesticulated wildly, trying to keep from going into shock. "But- You were- and Loki, he... How are you here?!"

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Well, you see Mr. Stark, by allowing the Avengers, a SHIELD-based team, to live in your home, you also allowed SHIELD agents access to your home at any time, and as I am a SHIELD agent-"

"NOT THAT! I mean... You were _dead _the last time I saw you!"

"And the last time I saw you, your voice didn't constantly crack."

Peter snorted, then covered his mouth with his hand to hide his grin when his dad turned to glare at him. Tony turned to glare at Coulson instead, but then his grimace suddenly turned into a mischievous smirk. Wordlessly, Tony turned on his heel, walking over to the intercom.

"Attention, residents of Stark Tower, this is your benevolent and ruggedly handsome landlord speaking-"

"'Landlord'?" Coulson asked.

"'Ruggedly handsome'?" Peter inquired dryly.

Tony glowered at them both. "Shut up, I'm making an announcement here!" He hissed.

He cleared his throat as he turned back to the intercom. "Ahem. As I was saying before I was so _rudely _interrupted, I'd like everyone who was affected by the apparent death of one Agent Phil Coulson to please come to the kitchen. He would like to offer his heartfelt apologies for causing you any emotional trauma." Tony ended the announcement with a _cackle_, an actual, honest-to-god _cackle, _the asshole, and pulled his finger off the button that activated the intercom. He grinned evilly again as he turned to the the agent, then burst out laughing at the agent's expression. For the first time since Tony had met the man, Phil Coulson looked mildly terrified.

"Stark," he began, his voice steady but his face still betraying his fear, "What have you-?"

He never finished his question, as a booming voice cut him off. "SON OF COUL!" Thor bellowed as he ran through the kitchen, nearly knocking Peter over as he rushed to crush Coulson in a joyful embrace.

"H-Hello... Thor..." The agent managed to choke out whilst having his internal organs crushed by a jubilant demigod. Steve, noticing the fact that Coulson was turning a disturbingly bright shade of blue, tapped Thor on the shoulder cautiously.

"Thor. Thor put him down, I think you might be suffocating him."

"Oh." The demigod dropped Coulson, who immediately bent over, gasping for air. "My apologies."

After a small bout of coughing, Coulson straightened, waving him off. "M'fine, don't... don't worry about it."

Thor beamed at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It is good to see you, my friend."

Coulson smiled back up at him weakly, then turned when Steve tapped him on his other shoulder.

"Do you still have your cards?"

Coulson looked at him quizzically. "What?"

Steve shuffled awkwardly. "Er, well, you asked me to sign those vintage Captain America cards when we first met, but... I kind of never got around to doing before... You know. And I was just thinking that I might... sign them for you now?"

The agent blinked, then his eyes widened as he realized what Steve was offering to do. "O-Oh, yeah, uh, that would... th-that would be great!" He replied shakily, looking like he was about to either burst into tears or jump up and down in glee.

"PHILLIP J. COULSON!"

The glee immediately faded, replaced with dread as Natasha stormed into the kitchen, somehow effortlessly pushing Thor aside (Steve had wisely backed away the second he heard her voice). Clint followed soon after.

"A-Agent Romanov! You're looking wonderful to-!"

She cut him off with a cold, hard slap. "Save it, Phil! What the FUCK were you THINKING, taking Loki on by yourself? You could've been KILLED! You almost WERE killed! In fact, up until about a minute ago, I thought you HAD been killed! WHAT IS _WRONG _WITH YOU?!"

Coulson swallowed, gingerly rubbing his stinging cheek. "Uh... I'm sorry?" He offered weakly.

Natasha scowled furiously at him, looking like she was about to bite his head off. Then, to everyone's surprise, her expression morphed into one of extreme sorrow as the assassin threw her arms around Coulson. "I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" She sobbed into his chest.

"U-Uhh..."

Tony walked over to where Clint was standing next to (well, more like leaning on) the counter. "Wow. I didn't know Natasha cared so much about Coulson."

"Well, she does... but then again, she spent the last twelve minutes crying over a chair we never use. She says that we're 'crushing its dreams' or some shit like that." The archer mumbled tiredly.

Tony whistled appreciatively. "You, my friend, are _screwed._"

"Yeah, I kinda got that..."

"Of course, if you _hadn't _been screwed, you wouldn't be in this situation in the first-!"

"Save it, Tony. I spent half the night getting rid of anything that could possibly interfere with the... you know."

Tony tilted his head in confusion. "No, I don't know. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, you know, the..." Clint looked around helplessly. He pointed first to Natasha, then gestured at his stomach. "The you-know-what?"

"Oh. Ohhhh! Wait, what exactly did you get rid of?"

"I found a list online. Let's see... I got rid of the eggs, all of the fish, all of the alcohol, the coffee-"

"Wait just one fucking minute. You got rid of the coffee?!"

Clint nodded.

"_All _of the coffee?!"

He nodded again. "You know, I kind of thought you'd be more upset about the alcohol-!"

Tony grabbed the archer by the front of his shirt. "WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE ALCOHOL?! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO FUNCTION WITHOUT COFFEE FOR THE NINE WHOLE _FUCKING _MONTHS UNTIL YOUR SPAWN IS BORN?!"

"Ahem."

The pair turned, noticing for the first time that everyone was staring at them. Tony released his grip on Clint, laughing nervously.

"Heh, uh, did I say spawn? I meant... uh..."

"Save it, Stark; SHIELD is already aware of both Agent Romanov's pregnancy and of her... less than professional relationship with Agent Barton. In fact, SHIELD has been aware of the latter for its entire duration."

Clint sighed, standing up. "Okay, look, I know Nat and I are probably both fired, but-!"

"You're not fired."

Both Natasha and Clint stared at him incredulously. "Wait, what?" They said in unison.

"Director Fury has decided, and these are his exact words, that although you two might be reckless imbeciles, you are also two of the best fucking agents that SHIELD has ever had."

The entire room stared at him in shock.

Natasha and Clint were both thinking _holy shit we get to keep our jobs._

The rest of them were thinking _holy shit Coulson just dropped an f-bomb._

"No pun intended, of course." He stated stoically, earning a snicker from Tony.

Clint walked over to Natasha and put an arm around her waist, both still in shock from Coulson's announcement. "So, we're definitely NOT fired, right?"

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Obviously."

The pair turned to each other, matching grins on their faces as they embraced.

"However!"

They stopped abruptly, looking back at Coulson.

"Director Fury has also ordered that Agent Romanov be put on paid administrative leave-"

"_WHAT?!"_

"- For the duration of her pregnancy." Coulson finished.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!I am _not _going on any sort of leave, and that is final!"

The agent sighed. "Director Fury has stated that your current condition is a liability to both the safety of the team and yourself, and-"

"_My _condition is a liability?! My fiancé is _deaf _in one ear, I don't see Fury putting HIM on administrative leave for it!"

"That's not what we're talking-!"

"Wait, Barton is deaf in one ear? Why didn't I know about-?"

"_**SHUT UP TONY!" **_The pair yelled simultaneously, causing Tony (and everyone else in the room) to take a startled step back, then attempt to make themselves as small as possible as the fighting got louder and angrier, each side screaming over the other in their quest to be heard, getting worse and worse until finally-

"-enough, would you just- NATASHA!"

Natasha was startled into silence. Coulson almost never used her first name, and when he did, it meant that he was dead serious.

"Look, you have a _very _physically demanding job, not mention dangerous. Fury is putting you on leave because of that. I know you know the risks, Natasha. But if you're planning on carrying this baby to term, then I suggest that you think about what you're risking if you don't take it easy."

Natasha glared at him for another minute, then looked away, clenching her fists. "You know what, Phil? Tell Fury that he doesn't need to worry about it. I _quit."_

With that, she walked away, ignoring Coulson's calls of 'Natasha!' and slamming the door to her and Clint's room behind her.

Clint rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I'll, uh... I'll go talk to her."

Once he was gone, Tony cleared his throat. "Well, that escalated quickly."

"Dad, no."

Tony chuckled, walking over to the couch and grabbing his jacket. "Well, if the SHIELD agent soap opera is done for now, I think I'll just-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! And just where do you think you're going, Mr. Stark?" Coulson demanded.

"Uh, Starbucks?"

Peter looked at his father quizzically. "What? But you don't even like Starbucks!"

"That is correct. However, I need coffee. And since Birdbrain went crazy and threw all of our coffee out, I am desperate for caffeine. Even crappy caffeine."

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that, Stark. Jarvis, lock the door."

Tony chuckled again as he headed towards the door. "Pfft. Jarvis doesn't listen to you!" He said as he opened the door.

Or rather, _tried _to open the door.

"What the... Jaaaarvis, why is the door locked?! Unlock it, now!"

"_I regret to inform you that I am unable to comply with your request, sir._"

"WHAT?! Why?!"

"_Agent Coulson has overridden my security codes, I'm afraid. He has ordered me not to let you out under any circumstances until you have returned to normal."_

Tony whirled around to glower at Coulson. "How in the FUCK did you-?!"

"Please. You think you're the only one capable of hacking a high-security computer?"

Tony spluttered. "I-I... You- GAH!"

Coulson smirked. "Director Fury had some orders for you as well, Mr. Stark. He says that you aren't allowed back out in public until you, and I quote, 'grow the fuck up'."

"But- But- WHY?!"

"If people see that Iron Man has been reduced to a teenager, it could cause panic. And since it's only been a little while since Loki attacked, the last thing we need is a scandal. Under the authority of SHIELD, you, Tony Stark, are hereby placed under house arrest until such time as you have returned to a normal state."

Tony gaped, then gesticulated angrily. "I- FUCK YOU! AND FUCK FURY!" He shouted, storming over to the elevator.

"Where are you going?"

"My workshop! Don't even THINK about bothering me!" Tony said furiously as he got onto the elevator.

For a moment after he left, the room was silent. Then Peter's watch beeped.

"SHIT! I'm late! Bye, guys! I'll see you when I get back!" Peter said hurriedly as he grabbed his backpack and ran out the door.

Another silence.

"Morning, guys." Bruce said sleepily as he walked into the kitchen. Upon seeing Coulson, he did a double take.

"Uh... guys? Did I miss something?"

* * *

Clint leaned on the door frame, staring at his wife-to-be's back. Natasha sat on the far side of the bed, curled up in the fetal position and stubbornly not looking at Clint.

"Natasha," Clint started gently.

"Save it, Clint." She muttered darkly.

"You don't even know what I was gonna say!"

"Yes I do. You're gonna tell me that I overreacted, that Fury and Coulson are just trying to help. You're gonna say that I shouldn't have quit, and that I should go ask for my job back."

Clint sighed, getting on the bed and placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's not what I was gonna say."

"Fine. What, then?"

Clint hesitated, trying to think of a way to put it gently. "... Tasha, do you want this baby?"

Natasha's eyes widened. "What? Why would you ask me that?" She asked as she turned to him.

He sighed again. "It's just that... you've told me time and time again that you didn't want kids."

"Yeah, so? I also told you that I didn't want to get married, and yet here we are!"

"Nat, you told me you didn't want kids because it would interfere with work."

Natasha bit her lip, looking at the floor. "Well... it would."

The pair was silent for a minute.

"... You know, you don't necessarily _have _to keep it."

Natasha looked up. "What, you mean like putting the kid up for adoption?"

Clint hesitated again, refusing to meet her eyes. "A-Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of not having the baby at _all_."

Oh.

"Clint, I... I don't know..."

"Hey, you don't have to decide right this minute! You should think about it, consider your options."

"Don't you want input? I mean, it's your kid too..."

Clint smiled sadly, kissing her forehead. "I know. But it's your body, not mine. In the end, you have to be the one who makes this decision."

Natasha didn't respond. Clint got off the bed, walking towards the door.

"I'll let you think about it. Just so you know, though, you have my love and support either way."

After Clint closed the door behind him, Natasha sighed, laying down on the bed.

In all honestly, she preferred staring down Loki to this.

* * *

Steve was worried about Tony.

The fact that he was worried at all wasn't anything new; Steve usually worried about everyone and everything, something that Bucky had teased him about mercilessly in their younger days.

No, it was the fact that he was worried about _Tony Stark_ of all people that had him a bit confused.

Oh, there was definitely still tension between them from before New York. They both had said a lot of things to each other that they weren't proud of (though Steve had the sneaking suspicion that he was a lot less proud of what he said than Tony), and yes, maybe Steve had been expecting Tony to be... well, to be Howard, but now that they'd gotten to know each other in a situation that wasn't about saving the world, he'd felt like he and Tony could be better friends than he and Howard ever were.

Tony getting turned into a toddler was a bit... odd, but he felt that it hadn't put a damper on the growing friendship between them. After all, Tony apparently trusted him enough to ask to sleep in his bed after a nightmare (which, okay, was pretty adorable).

Then Tony had turned into a teen, and suddenly it was like he was trying to block Steve from his life completely.

That was what had Steve worried. Had he done something wrong? Had he inadvertently insulted Tony somehow?

Whatever he'd done, Steve hoped that he would be forgiven through a peace offering.

Specifically, a caffeinated peace offering.

"Tony?" Steve said tentatively as he knocked on the door with his free hand and balanced the cardboard tray in the other. He had no idea what an 'espresso' was (the coffee shop person had seemed rather annoyed when he asked), but hopefully Tony liked it.

Depending on if he ever opened the door, of course.

Steve frowned and knocked again. "Tony? Are you in there?"

Still no answer. "Jarvis? Could you open the door for me?"

"_I'm afraid not, Master Rogers. Sir has specifically ordered me not to let anyone inside. If you'd like, I can give him a message for you?"_

Steve sighed, then straightened as a new idea came to him. "No thanks, but could you do me a favor?"

"_Of course."_

The blonde grinned, putting the tray by the door. "Could you make sure nobody takes those? Thanks!"

* * *

As it turns out, the door to Tony's workshop, despite being made of reinforced steel, crumbled pretty easily under the pressure from a super soldier with an unbreakable shield. Steve had only had to ram it twice before the door flew off its hinges and slammed into the wall in front of it. Steve grinned, picking the coffee back up with his free hand and heading down the stairs to find...

A very empty workshop.

"Tony?" Steve asked in bewilderment, placing the coffee on a table and walking to the center of the of the lab.

"Toooonnny. Where are you?" Steve called, looking under the tables and in cabinets on the off chance that Tony was a contortionist and could fit in there.

"Huh. Where could he have gone...?" Steve wondered aloud as he scratched his head in confusion. He glanced briefly at one of the tables, then did a double take when he saw a yellow post-it note on it. Pursing his lips, Steve walked over to the table, picking up the note.

_Went to get coffee. Later, bitches._

_-TS_

"What?" Suddenly, a light breeze blew through the lab, causing Steve to look over and notice the open window for the first time.

"How the hell didn't I notice that?"

* * *

"... _some kind of monster, how bad do I want her? I don't sleep, at night, I terrorize, there's blackness in my eyes-"_

The music suddenly cut, causing Tony to groan. "Jarvis, I know you don't like my music, but please, stop cutting it off or I will donate you to Harvard!"

"_I advise against making promises you won't keep, sir. And in any case, this was not my do-"_

Jarvis stopped suddenly, confusing Tony. "Jarvis?" He shouted over the static.

"_Stark." _A voice that made Tony grin evilly stated clearly.

"Well, hello, Supernanny! What can I do ya for?"

"_How did you get out? I specifically instructed Jarvis-"_

Tony scoffed. "Please. You don't think I know how to code in bypasses in case of incidents like this? By the way, how's about we stop hacking Jarvis? I think he's getting sick of this mistreatment."

He could almost hear Coulson roll his eyes. "_Where are you?"_

"Pfft, like I'd tell you that-"

"_Tony. Peter's in trouble."_

Tony's laughter died in his throat. "What? What happened, where is he-?"

"_Just tell us where you are, and we'll get you to him-"_

"Why can't you just tell me where he is-?"

"_If Iron Man were to arrive on the scene, Peter would be in more trouble than he already is."_

Tony swallowed hard, trying to keep from hyperventilating. "I'm in Italy, about thirty miles away from Lake Garda."

"_Great. We'll meet you at the lake."_

"We?"

"_Agent Barton and Captain Rogers are here as well."_

He could feel himself flush a bit when Coulson mentioned Steve, then mentally chided himself for being so silly. "A-Alright. I'll meet you there. Iron Man out."

* * *

True to his word, Tony landed barely five minutes after the quinjet, running to them the minute he landed.

"Where's Peter? Is he hurt? I swear to god Coulson, if my son has even one hair missing from his head I'm gonna punch somebody and it's gonna be Barton."

"Hey!" Clint protested.

"Shut up. Is Peter okay? Oh, god, please don't tell me that he's-!"

"TONY!" Coulson shouted, grabbing the frantic teen's shoulders to calm him. "Peter is fine. Nothing's happened to him."

Tony blinked, giving Coulson a blank look. "... What."

Steve rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Tony-"

"Hush, Steven, this is between me and Jerkass over here. Are you telling me," Tony said as he jabbed an armored finger into Coulson's chest, "that I hauled my ass thirty fuckin' miles, all the while panicking because I thought that I'd seen my son for the last time, just to get here, and for you to tell me that _he was never in any danger?!"_

"I didn't think you'd cooperate otherwise!"

"Damn right I wouldn't have come otherwise! God, I can't believe you! If I weren't so relieved that Peter is okay I swear I'd fly you up to seven thousand feet and drop you!" Tony's eyes narrowed. "He _is _okay, right? You're absolutely sure of that?"

"Yes, Tony. As far as I know, Peter is perfectly safe at home."

_**Meanwhile, in a sewer in Brooklyn...**_

_In retrospect, trying to find the Lizard was not my brightest moment, _Peter thought as he held his breath and tried not to gag on the sewer stench. The beast was right behind him, but thankfully didn't seem to know where he was.

At least he knew what happened to Dr. Conners.

Something rather slimy moved past Peter's leg, and he retched involuntarily. Behind him, the Lizard roared, and he started running through the sewers once again.

_**Back at the plot...**_

"Tony, I'm sorry we had to trick you, but I did make it very clear that you weren't to leave the tower under any circumstances."

Tony attempted to reply to that, but all that came out was angry gibberish and a few curse words.

Steve sighed and walked over to Tony, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Tony, look, I know that you don't like it, but Fury says that you can't leave the tower. It's just a few days more, you'll live."

Tony refused to look at him, mostly because he didn't want Steve to see the bright red blush on his face, but then he had an idea. An incredibly ballsy, totally-gonna-piss-Fury-off-but-worth-it kind of idea. He grinned wicked as he put his hand on Steve's outstretched arm.

"You know what, Cap? You're right. I shouldn't piss Fury off."

Steve smiled at him. "That's very mature of you, To-"

"But you know what?" Tony put just a little bit of pressure on his arm, then removed it. Before Steve could ask what he was doing, his entire right side had been outfitted in star-spangled armor. "To- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" He screamed as the armor completely covered him and he blasted into the sky.

"I think that Fury needs to be pissed off every once in awhile." Tony turned to the shocked Clint and Coulson, still grinning. "Takin' Steve, BYE!" He shouted as he flew off after Steve.

"Quick, somebody stop him!" Clint shouted.

Nothing.

"Dammit, Coulson!"

"Barton, if you don't shut up I _will _use my taser on you."

* * *

Natasha groaned, putting her head down on the table. "Pepper, I really don't know what to do."

"And you think I do? I'm not the one who's pregnant here!"

The assassin narrowed her eyes. "Not helping, Potts." She sighed. "I don't know, I just... I want to have this baby, I do, but at the same time..."

Pepper sighed as well, sitting down. "Well, let's try this: I want you to imagine your life five years from now, with this kid and without this kid. Think about which future you like better, and there you'll have it."

Natasha took a deep breath, leaning back in her chair. "Okay, imagining it..."

"_Okay, now hold the arrow steady..."_

_Clint was kneeling down on one knee, holding a small wooden bow. A tiny girl, no more than four years old, held onto the same bow, trying to keep the arrow steady. She paused to brush away a few lock of curly red hair that had fallen from their place among the mass of curls on top of her head, then focused her bright blue eyes back on the target. "Okay, I gots it!"_

"_Wait wait wait, don't-!"_

_Too late. The girl loosed the arrow, and it went sailing over the target. In the distance, someone screamed; both Clint and the girl cringed at the shriek of pain._

"_Sorry!" Clint called. He turned back to the girl, who was staring at the floor, dejected. _

"_Hey, now, what's the matter?" He said as he kneeled down to her height. She looked up, tears in her eyes. _

"_I did it wong again." She sniffed. _

"_Oh, honey, don't cry." Clint cooed as he wrapped his arms around her. "Baby, it's okay. You'll get it. Besides, you remember what your Uncle Tony said, right?"_

"_Weed Wichawds is a jewk-face?"_

"_... The other thing."_

"_You leawn mowe fwom failing than fwon winning." She said earnestly._

"_Right. So instead of being sad about failing, what should you do?"_

"_... Leawn fwom them?"_

"_Exactly! Now, how's about we try again?"_

_The girl eyed the bow warily. "I dunno..."_

"_Oh, come on! It can't hurt, can it?"_

_She stared at him for another minute, then sighed. "Okaaaay," she said dramatically as she moved back into place._

"_Great! Now, this time, instead of focusing on the target, I want you to focus on your actions. Focus on what you're doing with the arrow, not where you want it to go."_

_She did so, putting the arrow into place. _

"_Hold it steady... now pull it back..."_

_Her eyes narrowed as she followed his instructions._

"_And... NOW!"_

_She let the arrow fly out from the bow, sending it straight into the center of the target._

"_I did it!" She squealed happily, bouncing up and down. Clint wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her around in a circle._

"_Great job, baby! Now let's go make sure that we didn't accidentally kill someone."_

Natasha smiled, then opened her eyes. Upon seeing the look Pepper was giving her.

"What?"

"You're, uh..." Pepper gestured to her face. "You're kind of... crying, Tasha. Are... are you okay?"

Natasha lifted a finger to her face and found that it was indeed wet. "U-Uh, yeah, I'm," she swallowed, her voice sounding a bit choked. "I'm fine, I just... I know what I want now."

Pepper raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, really? Well, what did you decide?"

Natasha just smiled at her.

* * *

"WOOO-HOOOO!"

Tony chuckled, looking up at Steve. The super soldier had really gotten the hang of piloting the Star-and-Stripes (Rhodey had insisted on calling it the 'Iron Patriot' but that was lame so fuck that), having spent the past ten minutes racing through the clouds while Tony relaxed on the Italian cliff below. At first, Steve had... kind of freaked out, to be honest, though it was understandable; he hadn't been expecting to be whisked off his feet by a suit on auto pilot. Once he'd gotten the hang of it, though, he took off like a kid at Disney World.

Steve flew up to the cliff, snapping Tony out of his reverie. "Tony! C'mon, fly with me!"

The teen chuckled again. "No thanks, Capsicle. I think I'll just stay here."

Steve didn't say anything for a moment. Suddenly, he dropped down to the cliff, pressing one of the stars to make the armor fold up, at which point he put the resulting shape in his pocket and sat down next to Tony. The blonde grinned at him, making Tony's heart skip a beat.

"Beautiful view, huh?"

Tony spluttered and nearly passed out then and there before realizing that Steve meant the sunset. "O-Oh, uh, yeah, it's um... it's great." He finished lamely.

_Okay, Stark, be cool. You're Tony fucking Stark! You go outside and people trip over themselves to get to be in your presence! It's just Steve; you can handle this! It doesn't matter that he's sweet, and brave, and smart, and possibly Apollo in human form OH GOD DAMMIT NO!_

Tony made a small groaning noise in the back of his throat, pushing his face into his knees so that Steve couldn't see how red it was. Unfortunately for him, Steve noticed this behavior, his concern for Tony's sanity only growing. Tentatively, Steve placed a hand on Tony's back, causing the teen to jump.

"Ah! Y-Yes?!" Tony's eyes were wide and frantic, and his face was flushed dark crimson. Steve's brow creased, becoming even more worried.

"Tony, are you... are you feeling alright?"

Tony blinked and laughed nervously. "I- Fine! I'm perfectly fine, don't worry so much!"

"You don't seem fine."

Tony swallowed, refusing to meet Steve's eyes. "W-Well, I am! Why are you so w-worried anyway?"

"Well, we're friends, aren't we?"

Tony recoiled, looking at the other in shock. "Wh- Friends? Y... You think of me as... your friend?" This was honestly news to Tony. He had actually thought Steve thought he was a dick.

"Of course. Why, don't you think so?"

"Well, yeah, I guess but..." Tony's eyes narrowed as he thought of something. "Wait just a fucking minute."

Steve recoiled when Tony pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You're just pitying me 'cause you were buddies with my dad, aren't you?!"

"What?! No! No that's not it at all!"

Tony scoffed angrily. "Yeah, right! I know that you were looking for Howard when you met me, Cap! Well, I've got news for you, pal! I'm not Howard Stark!"

"I know that, Tony! And I don't pity you! I genuinely like you and consider you to be my friend!"

Tony halted, finding himself staring into Steve's eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes that pleaded with him to listen to what Steve was saying.

He wasn't lying.

Tony felt like his heart might burst right out of his chest, it was beating so fast. He tore his eyes away from Steve's, curling back up. "Fine, I believe you."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve breathe a sigh of relief. _Stop being so fucking cute, dammit. Are you trying to kill me?!_

For a minute, they were silent, simply enjoying the sunset.

Tony swallowed. "... Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Can... can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"... What was my dad like when you knew him?"

Steve didn't answer right away. Tony glanced over at him, then quickly looked away when he saw the (adorable) nostalgic smile on his face.

"He was definitely flashy, to say the least. Howard was probably the most eccentric person I'd ever met. Still is, actually."

"Thanks."

"I'm serious! Really, I think I'd like to have met your mother. Any woman who could put up with Howard's brand of weird has got to be something special."

"... She really was."

Steve paused, looking over at Tony. The melancholy expression he sported surprised Steve.

"... How long has it been since...?"

"It'll be twenty-two years this December." Tony mumbled. "I... I never got to say goodbye to them, you know. It's just... one day, they went out for a drive, and..." He hugged his knees closer. "... They never came back."

Tony knew that he was crying now, but honestly, he found that he couldn't care less. Even after all these years, after all that happened, he still missed them, missed them so much that it actually hurt sometimes.

He was so wrapped up in this fresh wave of grief that he didn't notice Steve's arms around him until the bigger man had been holding him for nearly a minute.

"Shh... I'm so sorry, Tony, I didn't realize..."

"I-It's fine..." Tony wiped his eyes. "Y-You know, with my dad, it's not so much that I never said goodbye... the last thing I ever said to him was that I hated him."

Steve's eyes widened and he loosened his grip on the teen. "What? Why?"

"... He was a genius, no denying that. Probably one of the most brilliant people ever to walk the Earth. But..." Tony shuffled a bit. "He was an absolutely _shitty_ dad. I'm not sure he even knew I was there half the time." He laughed humorlessly. "'Hey Dad! Will you play ball with me?' 'Not now, Tony, I'm building a machine that will allow people to talk with fish!' 'Daddy, will you help me with my science homework?' 'Not now, Tony, I'm doing real science that could change the lives of millions of people living in sickness!' 'Daddy, do you love me?' 'Not'..." He swallowed hard. "'Not now, Tony. I'm busy.'"

Steve didn't say anything at first. "... You know what? _Fuck _that guy."

Tony's eyes widened. He turned to Steve in utter disbelief. "Did... did you just say 'fuck'?"

Steve grinned sheepishly. "Yep. Fuck Howard Stark. What a dick, right?"

Tony just stared at him, completely in shock. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the perfect golden boy, the poster boy of WWII, had just dropped two F-bombs and called someone a dick.

He _really _should not be as turned on by that as he was.

"Tony?"

Tony jumped, flushing even darker than before. "U-Uh, we... we- we should head back, right? I mean, it's getting late, and- and they'll be worried!" Tony scrambled to get to his feet, putting the red-and-gold hexagon onto his arm and pressing down on the circle to activate the armor.

"Oh, okay. But... Tony?"

Tony looked down from where he was levitating. "Y-Yeah?"

Steve gave him another sheepish grin. "I think you're a better man than Howard could ever hope to be."

Tony was suddenly very glad that Steve couldn't see his face.

"_Sir, your body temperature has risen to dangerous levels."_

"Jarvis! Shut it!"

* * *

"Hey."

Clint looked up. Natasha was leaning on the door frame, smiling at him.

"Hey."

The assassin walked over to him, taking a seat in his lap. "So, I was thinking about what we talked about earlier..."

Clint swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his wife-to-be was on his lap and wearing some _very _tiny shorts and wow had Natasha always had such long legs how had he never- FOCUS! "O-Oh, really?"

"Mm-hm. And..." She said, moving around so that she was straddling him.

"A-And...?"

She smirked, leaning to whisper in his ear. "And we should probably start thinking of baby names."

Clint blinked. Then a huge grin spread over his face. "A-Are you saying that-?"

Natasha nodded. "Let's have a baby. _This_ baby."

Clint's grin got even wider. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." With that, she leaned in to kiss him, ready to show him just how much she loved him.

"Ahem."

The pair moved apart, looking at the door. Coulson shuffled awkwardly.

Clint grimaced. "Dammit, Coulson! Can't it wait?"

Coulson seemed determined not to look at them. "I'm afraid not. Miss Romanov? A word, please?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and started to get off of her fiancé.

"Whoa there!" Clint objected, pulling her back on top of him. "You can have her in a little while, I need her right now!"

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Agent Barton-"

Natasha held out her hand for him to stop. "I got it." She turned back to Clint, giving him a seductive smirk. "Clint, babe, let me go talk to Coulson now, and I promise I'll make it up to you."

Clint gave her a doubtful look. "What's in it for me?"

Natasha grinned wickedly, sliding up close to him and leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Well, I'll-"

**[The following has been censored due to being deemed inappropriate for anyone under the age of Tony Stark, and possibly even too kinky for Tony Stark himself.]**

Coulson took the gasps coming out of Barton as pretty good sign that he'd agree to anything Natasha asked of him.

"Fine. You have five minutes. No. More."

Natasha grinned, pecking him on the cheek and getting off of him. "Thank you, hon!"

Clint grunted in response, and Coulson pretended not to notice him crossing his legs and biting his lip as they left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Neither of them spoke for a minute. An awkward tension hung between them.

"I'm sorry," They said at the same time, causing them both to recoil.

"Wait, why are you sorry?" Coulson inquired. "I'm the one who was being rude."

"No, no, you were only trying to help! I was being stubborn! You were just following orders!"

Coulson looked a bit uncomfortable. "I could have been a bit kinder about it, admit it."

Natasha smiled a bit. "Phil, really, I get it. I know that you're just trying to help. Even if you were kind of a dick about it."

Coulson smiled back. "So, uh, listen... I haven't told Fury that you quit yet... You wouldn't happen to want your job back, would you?"

Natasha pretended to think about it, then sighed and shrugged her shoulders dramatically. "Oh, fine, if you insist. But! You have to agree to be the permanent unpaid babysitter for my kid."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "I thought that went without saying."

Natasha chuckled, Coulson grinning along with her.

"We're back! Oh, god, what stinks?"

"Oh come ON! I've already taken like, three showers today!"

Coulson and Natasha looked at each other.

"I believe you have a rather eager fiancé to get back to?"

"And I think you've got a teenager to lecture?"

Coulson nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you, Agent Romanov."

**A/N: Okay, so let me just say that I'm really nervous about this one. I'm really, really, really afraid of chickifying Natasha, because she's too awesome to be turned into 60's Sue Richards, but I really don't think that it's at all safe for a pregnant woman to do the things she does in her job, but it's kind of a cliche for a woman to choose to leave her job to have a baby, and-**

***tears hair out* SFHJER:HUJPIOREUAAIOUAPQROU**

**(That's the sound that my anxiety makes.)**

**Ugh, don't mind me, I'm just trying to balance being a feminist and writing a safe, healthy pregnancy where the one having the baby is one of the strongest female characters I've ever come upon. #writerproblems**

**Anyway! Ignore my insecurities! Remember to review~!**


	7. Wedding Bells

**A/N: I watched the first three episodes of Avengers Assemble, and may I just say that never has a show given me OTP feels in the first five minutes before. **

**(Also I apologize for how long it's been since the last chapter. I blame tumblr.)**

"NATASHA ROMANOV, GET BACK HERE!"

Thor, Clint and Peter all cringed when they heard Pepper shout from down the hall. Over the time that they had lived there, each had learned that an angry Pepper was like an angry Bruce: Something to be avoided at all costs. Suddenly, the ventilation grate over the tv opened with a clang, and Natasha crawled out, diving under the table.

"If she asks, I was never here!"

Clint gave his fiancee a bemused look. "Honey, what did you-?"

"Where is she?!" Pepper interrupted as she stormed into the living room.

"Who, Pepper?" Peter asked innocently.

"Natasha!" She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I've been trying to catch her all morning! Have you seen her?"

"Nope!"

"Sorry, haven't seen her!"

"Yes, she is certainly not underneath the table!" Thor stated with forced cheerfulness, causing the other two men to flinch.

"Thor! The idea is to NOT reveal Natasha's location!" Peter hissed.

Pepper arched an eyebrow, then got to her knees and looked under the table. "You know, I always thought spies were supposed to be _good _at remaining unnoticeable."

"One, I was short on time, I had to improvise! And two, I seem to remember fooling you and your entire company only a couple of years ago."

Pepper gave her a withering look. "Natasha, come on. It's just a dress."

"Exactly!" She shouted as she got out from under the table. "It's just a dress! I have plenty of dresses! I don't see why I need another one!"

"Because it's your wedding dress! Your wedding day! It's a day that you'll probably only have once!"

"Wait, why did you say 'probably'?!" Clint protested.

Natasha ignored him. "Pepper, we're having a small ceremony at city hall. This isn't exactly the wedding of the century."

Pepper gave her another look, then pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapping it a few times before showing it to her. "There are over fifty people on the guest list!"

"What?!" Natasha snatched the phone out of her hands. "Wh- But- I only planned to invite a few people! How-!" Her eyes narrowed. "_Clint!"_

The archer shrunk back in his chair. "Heh-heh... I... may have accidently invited a few of our co-workers to the wedding..."

"_Fifty _of them?!"

"No! I only invited, like, _five _people at the most!"

"Well, who invited the rest of them?!"

"Fury." Coulson replied casually as he strolled into the kitchen. "Oh, and they aren't technically guests, they're security. We've been receiving threats from A.I.M as of late, and Fury prefers not to take any chances."

"So there's going to be a plethora of armed guards surrounding City Hall?"

"Well, that certainly won't cause suspicion." Peter dead-panned.

"They won't be distinguishable from the rest of the guests," Coulson replied distractedly as he glanced down at his phone. "Also, we've moved the wedding to Central Park."

"WHAT?!"

Coulson smirked at her. "Have fun dress shopping!" He called as he left the room.

Natasha stared after him, rendered speechless with rage for a moment before letting out a shrill scream.

"What's all the yelling about?" Tony asked sleepily as he entered the kitchen. No one spoke for a minute as they stared at him in shock.

"What?"

"Dad, have you by chance looked in a mirror today?"

Tony gave his son a confused look before picking up the toaster.

"_Hey! He said mirror, not toaster!"_

"Well, would you look at that? I haven't looked like this since I was twenty-five!" He stated happily, ignoring the machine's protests. Tony then froze, his eyes widening in realization as he dropped the toaster.

"_Ow!"_

"I... I'm twenty-five again." A huge grin spread over his face. "I'm twenty-five again!"

"I... think we've established that, Dad."

"Do you know what this means?!"

"You're old enough to drive?"

"You can pilot the armor correctly?"

"Rhodey will stop laughing at you?"

"No! Well, yes, that's all true, but the main thing is that I," He started proudly, gesturing grandly to himself, "am done with puberty again!"

Peter gave him a withering look.

"Oh, sorry, kiddo."

* * *

"Remind me again why we're here?"

"Because Pepper is forcing Natasha to buy a wedding dress, duh."

"No," Clint said lowly, "That's why they're at the bridal shoppe! I want to know why _we're _being forced to get new clothes!"

"Because I refuse to let you wear a tshirt and jeans at the altar, genius." Tony replied as he glanced around the store.

"I already own a suit!"

"No, you own a sport jacket and some vaguely matching slacks."

Clint glared at him. "Hey, not all of us are billionaires, pal!"

"Uh, Tony?" Bruce interjected. "I get that Clint should look nice on his wedding. I even get that the rest of us should make an effort too. What I don't get is why you dragged us to Milan."

Tony scoffed. "Please. You really think I would let my closest pals and my precious son just wear any old suits?" He turned away from the other men, yelling something in Italian. Within seconds, a sharply dressed man appeared, greeting Tony happily before engaging in what appeared to be a serious discussion.

"What are they saying?" Steve asked Clint in a hushed voice.

"How should I know? I don't speak Italian!"

The other men stared at him doubtfully.

"What? I don't!"

"They're talking about suits." Peter said distractedly while typing on his phone. When they didn't respond, he looked up. Upon seeing the bewildered expressions on their faces, he sighed.

"Dad took me to Italy for a few weeks when I was eleven. It was kind of necessary to learn some of the language."

Just then, Tony turned back to them, a huge grin on his face. "Okay! My good friend Americo here has generously agreed to create some formalwear for you guys!" He gestured towards a hall to the side. "Follow me..."

* * *

Steve swallowed nervously as looked in the giant mirror outside the hall of dressing rooms, loosening and tightening the deep red tie repeatedly before sighing and taking it off, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt and looking back in the mirror. He furrowed his brow, then attempted to slick back his hair.

"Heh, I look like Tony..." He grinned slyly as an idea came to him. "Hey there, I'm Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. I don't play by the rules, babe! Also, I think driving Fury crazy is fun!" He mimicked, forming a gun with his free hand and cocking it.

"First of all, I haven't called someone 'babe' since college," Steve whipped his head around, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes. Tony smirked at him, closing the door behind him. "Secondly, driving Fury crazy _is _fun. It's one of the few things Birdbrain and I agree on."

Steve swallowed nervously once more, flushing in embarrassment. "U-Uh... I-!"

"Relax, Rogers, I can handle a little mocking. I wouldn't have made it through Peter's 'comedian phase' if I couldn't."

"Peter wanted to be a comedian?"

"He was thirteen. We don't like to talk about it." Tony strolled over to Steve, cradling his chin in thought. "You know, I'm not sure you really can pull off this look." He mused as he buttoned the shirt back up. "But the tie's not really your color, either. Hmm... give me a minute." He called as he ran back out the door.

Steve stared after him bemusedly, then sighed again, turning towards the mirror to look at himself. He screwed up his face, lamenting how out-of-place he looked in the suit.

"I still don't understand why I couldn't wear my old suit..."

"Uh, because it's from the 40's and wasn't preserved like it's owner?"

Steve jumped. "Stop doing that!" He scolded, causing the billionaire to chuckle. Tony strolled over to him again, handing him a new tie, this one a deep azure color.

"Here. Try this one."

Steve obliging took it, fumbling around nervously with the tie until he had fashioned it into a semi-decent knot. "How... How do I look?"

Tony couldn't help but snicker. "I think you might've messed up on the tie, Cap." He replied as he undid the knot, retying it so that it didn't look like it was tied by a nervous sixth grader ten minutes before his first school dance. "There. That's much... uh..."

How had Steve gotten so close to him without him noticing?

They stared at each other for what felt like hours, neither able to speak or break eye contact. Tony swallowed hard, hoping that his face wasn't as flushed as it felt. He also wished that Steve's eyes weren't so blue, or that his lips didn't look so soft, and wow was it his imagination or was Steve getting closer-?

Tony's eyes widened as he felt the other man's lips press gently press against his, his mind going blank momentarily before he thought that Steve's lips were as soft as they looked, not to mention warm. It occurred to him that he should kiss the soldier back, but Steve moved away before Tony could act on that thought.

They remained silent, both unsure of what to say.

Steve was the color of an overripe tomato. "I... I, uh... Tony-"

Suddenly, Tony grabbed him by the collar, smashing his lips against the soldier's. Steve's eyes widened in shock, but after a few seconds he closed them, leaning into Tony and placing his hands on the small of the genius's back, who hummed appreciatively in response.

"Hey, Dad? Thor is having trouble with his tie ag- uh..."

Tony yelped in surprise, pushing Steve away from him and turning to face the newcomer. "P-Peter! Haven't- Haven't you ever heard of knocking?!"

The teen's eyebrow rose, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Uh... am... am I interrupting something?"

"No, no of course not! You said something about Thor needing help, right? Okay bye then Steve!"

"Tony-!" Steve called after him, sighing when he realized that the genius was out of earshot.

Peter looked up at him, then pointed two of his fingers at his eyes and then at Steve. "I'm watching you..." He stated darkly as he backed out of the room, leaving behind a very confused soldier.

* * *

_Two weeks later..._

"Clint, come _on!"_

"I said no, Stark! No bachelor parties!"

Tony frowned, looking up at Clint and squinting. He never could understand why Clint felt that it was necessary to build a lookout on top of the tower, especially since he had a perfectly good bedroom on the top floor, but since the only answer he had gotten when he asked was a glare, he had decided to just let the man do his own thing. "Why not?

"Because I know you, and I'm fairly sure that if I let you throw me a bachelor party, I'm fairly sure that I'll end up missing while you, Steve, and Thor wake up in a hotel room in Vegas with a stolen tiger."

"Wh- That's the plot of The Hangover!"

"Fine. Then we'll all wake up scattered around the tower, with Peter and Coulson looking at us with very amused faces. You and Steve will probably be all awkward because more likely than not you two will have made out, and there will _still _be a stolen tiger."

Tony flushed violently. "Wh- Why on _earth _would Steve and I make out?!"

Clint sighed and jumped down from his perch. "Uh, because you two totally have the hots for each other? It's kinda obvious, dude."

The genius folded his arms and furrowed his brow indignantly. "I-I don't know what you mean by that."

"Oh, please, Stark, don't play dumb, it's not your strong suit." Clint chastised as he flicked Tony on the forehead. "Literally and figuratively."

Tony simply scowled at him in response.

"Don't give me that. We've all seen how you two look at each other. We'd have to be blind not to."

The brunet snickered, causing Clint to give him a bemused look.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I just... A blind superhero? Who'd ever believe that?"

Clint rolled his eyes as he clapped Tony on the shoulder. "Here's an idea: Ask him to the wedding."

Tony flushed again. "Wh-What?! No!"

"Well, who else are you gonna ask? Pepper?"

"No!" Tony looked away. "I asked her this morning. She's going with Happy."

More eye-rolling, then a sigh. "Just... ask him. What's the worst that could happen?"

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Clint stopped him.

"That was rhetorical."

* * *

"Just set that down over there, thanks!" Pepper called out, checking another thing off of her list. The conservatory garden area of Central Park was absolutely swarming with SHIELD agents who were helping to finish up setting up the wedding, the planning of which Pepper had taken into her own hands. Why they wanted to have the wedding so soon, she had no clue, but whatever.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, making her look up from her StarkPad and whip her head around, smiling when she saw who it was. "Oh, hello, Steve. Just putting the final touches on the weddi- HEY! Careful with that, it's breakable!"

Steve smiled nervously. "Uh, okay... I was, um, hoping I could ask you for some advice?"

Pepper blinked. "Uh, okay... why me, exactly?"

The soldier rubbed the back of his neck apprehensively. "Er, well, it's... it's kind of about Tony, and since you seem to know Tony better than anyone..."

Pepper sighed, rolling her eyes. "What did Tony do this time?"

"Nothing, nothing, he just..." He mumbled something under his breath.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that- Sweetie, while I appreciate the ingenuity, the napkins are supposed to be folded into _swans_, not katanas."

"Tony k..." He mumbled again.

Pepper sighed, turning to face the blonde man. "Steve, if you don't speak up, I can't-"

"Tony kissed me!" Steve blurted out, his face reddening.

Pepper stared at him, rendered both slack-jawed and speechless by shock. Behind her, one SHIELD agent reluctantly handed a twenty dollar bill to a significantly happier agent on her left.

"Tony _kissed _you?!" The redhead asked incredulously once she regained the ability to speak.

"Er, well, technically _I _kissed him first."

The bill was reluctantly handed back to its previous owner.

"Why?!"

"I don't know!" Steve cried out. "I didn't really think about it before I did it!"

Pepper sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Well, do you have... _feelings _for Tony?" She asked, not quite believing that she was having this conversation with _Steve _of all people.

"No!" Steve replied indignantly before flushing and shrugging defeatedly. "Yes. I don't know!"

Pepper opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped, looking around her. "One second, sweetie." She said warmly as she turned away from him. "What are you people doing just standing around?! The wedding is in _two hours! Get to work!"_

The agents scattered around the garden immediately, and Steve had the weirdest sense of deja vu. Pepper turned back to him, sighing once more.

"Look, take it from someone who used to date Tony: He is _terrible _at feelings, like, seriously horrible with them. He's basically the most emotionally constipated man I know. When exactly did this kiss take place?"

"Uh... about two weeks ago, when Tony dragged us all to Italy to get suits."

"Ok, and have you two talked much since then?"

"Not... really." Steve admitted, thinking back to all the awkward conversations about the weather at breakfast and the purely professional communications during missions.

Pepper gave him a tight-lipped smile and clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, Steve, Tony has feelings for you!"

"Wh- How can you tell?"

"Because if he didn't like you, he'd either act like nothing happened, or make rude jokes about it, because he is a huge dick. Just... give him a little time, alright? If I know Tony, and I do, he'll want to make the next move."

Steve smiled at her gratefully. "Thanks, Pepper." He turned around, heading towards the entrance. "I'll see you at the-"

"Oh, no," Pepper said as she grabbed the collar of Steve's shirt, "No way, soldier boy. I just gave you romantic advice on my ex-boyfriend, the least you can do is stay and help out."

* * *

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Clint and Natasha glanced furtively at each other, both grinning hugely. Despite all the obstacles and difficulties leading up to this moment, now that it was finally here neither of them could say that it all wasn't worth it. There was no doubt in either of their minds that this was right, that this was how it was supposed to be, with them up on the altar surrounded by their friends and teammates.

"If anyone has a reason as to why these two should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your-"

Suddenly, a huge rustling came from beyond the trees, followed by a deafening roar.

"The fuck...?" Tony started, ignoring the disapproving glance from his fellow groomsmen (mainly Steve). That didn't last long, though, because barely a second later a scream was heard at the back of the seating area, followed by Fury shouting and guns being fired as the Lizard tore down the aisle.

"Why?!" Clint demanded, throwing his hands up in the air angrily.

"Clint, we can question this later," Steve yelled over the gunfire as he ran down the steps, retrieving his shield from what had been designated as a weapons pile. "Right now, we have to make sure that thing doesn't get out of here!"

Clint simply stared in shock at the scaly beast, prompting Natasha to roll her eyes and drag him over to the weapons. "Come _on, _Clint!"

"Aren't you even a little bit upset about this?!" Clint shouted as he picked up his bow and arrow and fired it directly into the monster's open mouth, where it proceeded to explode and cause the Lizard to roar in pain. "I mean, he kinda just ruined our wedding!"

"Well, yeah, but there's just one thing: I happen to like being alive!" Natasha called as she grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him off to the side, leading him through the trees into an enclosed space. "Get going, webhead, I'll cover for you," She whispered through gritted teeth. The teen grinned at her, running off and ducking behind a bush. The bride rolled her eyes with a grin on her face, kicking off her shoes as she ran back to the battle, glad once again of her choice to have a simple, flowy gown.

"Natasha! Have you seen Peter?" Tony asked worriedly as he landed next to her.

"He's fine, I got him to safety!" Natasha yelled cooly. Technically it wasn't a lie; Peter _was _safe at the moment, after all.

"Good." A blood-curdling scream came from where the Lizard was standing. "Because his girlfriend is kinda in peril."

"Let me _go, _you giant... scaly... _thing!" _Gwen demanded from her place in the monster's giant claw, kicking as hard as she could. Suddenly, the monster's face was covered in web, causing him to roar in panic, anger and confusion.

"Hey! Get your claws off of her, you damn dirty reptile!" Peter quipped as he swung towards the monster, kicking him right between the eyes. The beast howled in pain, releasing his captive involuntarily. The webhead shot another line of web onto the Lizard's now- raised arm, catching his girlfriend before she could hit the ground.

"Well, hello there, gorgeous." Peter said as they landed.

Gwen's eyebrow rose as she gave him an unamused look. "Really?"

"No?"

"No." She affirmed.

"Sorry. I'm not very good at talking to pretty girls."

"I've noticed," Gwen replied, grinning.

"Hey! Webhead! Quit flirting with my son's girlfriend and help already!" Tony called out before blasting the beast with a laser.

"Oh, um, right! You guys keep doing what you're doing, I'll get the civilians to safety!" Peter yelled back, grabbing Gwen and swinging away.

"Okay, that's- Wait a second..."

* * *

"Where are the other civilians?" Gwen asked when they had landed on a nearby building.

"Oh, they all left before I got here." Peter replied. "There really weren't that many of them; most everybody at the wedding was a SHIELD agent or superhero."

"Ah." Gwen folded her arms. "So... your dad?"

Peter rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Y-Yeah... I haven't... exactly-"

"Told him? I can tell."

The webhead sighed. "I know, I know, I should tell him, but... I've had a lot of stuff going on lately! What with my mentor turning out to be the Lizard, and school, and..." He paused, noticing the disapproval on his girlfriend's face. "And you're not going to accept any of my excuses, are you?"

"Nope." Gwen replied, shaking her head.

Peter sighed again. "Fine, I'll tell him. Tonight," He promised.

Gwen smiled. "You better get back there." She walked over to him briskly, pulling up the mask over his nose and kissing him quickly. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Peter said, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled his mask back down.

As he swung away, he wasn't aware that they had been seen.

"Oh, no..." Tony whispered, incredulous at what he'd just seen.

* * *

"Peter?" Tony called out tentatively when he got home later, already dreading what he had to tell his son.

The teen peeked into the living area, his stomach turning nervously. "H-Hey, Dad! Glad to see that the Lizard didn't get you!"

Tony looked at him, confused. "The... Lizard?"

"You know, the scaly guy! The... media calls him that?"

"Oh." Tony rubbed the back of his neck while Peter looked at the floor.

"There's something I need to tell you." Both said simultaneously, each surprising the other.

"Y-You go first." Peter said, gesturing with his hands.

"Okay, um..." Tony blew air through his lips, then inhaled deeply. "There's no easy way to say this, but... Peter, Gwen's cheating on you."

Peter's eyes widened in shock as he felt his heart drop into his stomach. "Wh... What?" He managed a bit breathlessly, feeling winded.

"Earlier today, when the Lizard attacked the wedding, I saw her with Spiderman," His father explained, placing a hand on his son's shoulder in sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Pete."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, I knew I should've gone first."

Tony gave him another confused look. "Come again?"

"I... I probably should've told you this a while ago, but..." Peter took a deep breath. "Dad, I'm-"

Suddenly, Peter's phone rang, interrupting his big confession.

"Uh... one second." He said as he fished his phone out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"_H... Hi, Peter." _Gwen said in a shaky, hushed voice.

"Hey. Listen, I can't really talk right now, I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"_Yeah, um, so am I. Sort of why I'm calling, actually."_

Peter furrowed his brow in confusion. "What are you-?" He froze mid-sentence as he heard a low growl. "Gwen. What was that?"

"_The Lizard."_

"WHAT?!" Peter shouted, startling Tony. He turned to his father, giving him a weak thumbs up. "Where are you?"

"_I'm in the lab at Oscorp. Seems Doctor Connors came back for his-!" _A huge roar came from the other end, followed by Gwen screaming and the sound of something being fired, which in turn was followed by a pained growl.

"What the hell was that?!" Peter cried out.

"_Laser gun. He got too close, I panicked!"_

"Wait, you fired a laser gun?"

"_Y-Yeah?"_

"... That's pretty hot, actually."

He could almost hear Gwen roll her eyes. "_Peter, I think he's planning something. You remember that antidote you asked me to make?"_

"Yeah?"

"_It's finished, but I can't get to it from where I am, and I think he's getting ready to do that thing with the lizard DNA. I need you to get over here and distract him so I can get to the antidote."_

Peter nodded fervently. "Okay. Just... hang tight, and try not to get caught."

"_Okay. Hurry."_

Peter hung up, turning to his dad. "I've got to go. Gwen's in trouble, and-"

"Peter, what's going on?" Tony interrupted in a demanding voice, grabbing his son's arm.

The teen grit his teeth. "Dad. Let go."

"No, no, not until you tell me what's going on!"

"Dad," Peter repeated, trying to keep a level tone. "I'm not asking."

"Neither am I. Tell me what's going on or so help me-!"

Peter broke away from him, pushing his father into the wall and shooting enough webbing to trap him there.

"What the-?!"

"I'm sorry!" Peter cried out, holding his hands up. "I'll explain everything later, but right now Gwen needs me!" With that, he dove behind the couch, changing into his costume frantically.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, you tell me what the fuck is going on right now or I swear I'll... I'll..." Tony's angry tirade faded away as Peter got out from behind the couch, pulling his mask on.

"Jarvis, open the window." Peter demanded coolly as he approached the glass. As it opened, Peter turned back to his father, who had the most shocked look on his face that Peter had ever seen.

"P... P-Peter..." Tony stammered. "P-Peter, what-?"

Peter turned away, looking out the open window. "I'm sorry, Dad." He whispered as he shot a line of webbing out, latching on to a nearby building and swinging away.

"... Spiderman?"

**A/N: Hooo boy. Not exactly to plan, huh?**

**Remember to review~!**


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